Camp Xavier
by Bez Milo
Summary: Novel: Jean Grey spent the past five summers as a counselor at Camp Xavier, escaping her rigid parents and rigorous academics. This summer a new staffer, Scott Summers, shows up and everything begins to change. Jean and Scott separately struggle the balance of growing from their past and taking control of their own fate. Mature themes.. UPDATE: 8/15 new chapter!
1. Notes & Prologue

Notes from the Author

I have been an avid X-Men fan for the past, oh twenty or so years. I've toyed with the idea of creating my own fan fiction for the past couple of years. So I present to you, my first one. This is actually my first published writing of any sort on the internet, so nothing like starting with a novel!

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Summary:

Jean Grey spent the past five summers as a counselor at Camp Xavier, escaping her rigid parents and rigorous academics. This summer a new staffer, Scott Summers, shows up and everything begins to change. Jean and Scott separately struggle the balance of growing from their past and taking control of their own fate.

* * *

 **There are strong adult themes including strong language, violence, and sexual themes.**

This story is a complete universe of it's own. No assumed knowledge of the X-Men is needed to read.

The names and characters are familiar however they have been stripped of all powers.

Jean x Scott x Logan

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 **Story Updates**

New chapters will be posted weekly.

-Bez 6/26

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 _I would like the dedicate this story to Minisinoo._

 _Your contagious creations sparked a literary fire in me._ _For the past fifteen years, you've given me the thrill up staying up past my bedtime, unable to stop reading._


	2. Welcome to Camp Xavier

Clouds of dust caught the sun rays as the tires to an old white Toyota Corolla rumbled slowly down a long gravel road. A pig farm on the left side of the road welcomed her back while on the other side of the road a large row of mature trees provided adequate shade for the drive. Her thick red hair danced around as a breeze whipped through the sun roof and escaped out of her rolled down window. It was a beautiful early June Michigan day, a few weeks before the humid miserable summer heat started to sink in.

There was an opening between the trees on the right through which another gravel road forked off into. She turned the steering wheel, the clunker veered off the main road and past a weathered wooden sign that read, "Welcome to Camp Xavier".

She let out an involuntary content sigh. _I'm home_ , she thought. This was her fifth year as a camp counselor at Camp Xavier, properly name for Lake Xavier which is a part of the camp property. Her first time as a staffer was just after her junior year of high school. She wanted to seek out volunteer opportunities to put on her college application. She was calculated like that and knew she'd need to stand out on a piece of paper to get into a decent college program, which her parents obsessed over. She was the only child and she felt the burden of it anytime she was around them. They treated her like an adolescent as if she was incapable of making any decisions on her own while carefully planning out her whole life. So naturally, when she saw a staffing summer position posted in the middle of Michigan, she packed up her white clunker and hit the road as soon as the school year was over.

Camp Xavier was open year-round, mostly serving smaller company, school, and organization retreats through out the school year. During the summer months from mid-June to late August, it served as a full summer non-profit camp for kids who are in foster care or orphans. The large property was a good thirty minutes from the nearest town, making it the perfect place for campers and staffers alike to escape in the summer.

The scent of fresh cut grass mixed with early summer wildflowers wafted into the car and it was divine. She passed by volleyball courts, a basketball court, and clusters of thick oaks. A little further up through another pocket of trees there were about twenty cabins spread out among the woods. The whole camp was mostly in the woods, with a few clearings where they would play kick ball games or other team building exercises.

Finally, she pulled up a small peninsula on the property that jutted out looking over the massive lake. A large two-story wooden lodge lined with windows rested upon the point. This was the main hall that housed the kitchen and where meals were served, or other activities would be hosted there. A large deck wrapped around the lodge and gave for a perfect view a Xavier lake. Behind the lodge there was a small patch of woods that had a trail down to the beach.

The breaks squealed, and gravel crunched under the tires as she lunged the car into park. Long golden legs spilled out and she enjoyed a satisfying stretch, limbs reaching for the sky with an audible yawn. The sun was beginning it's decent for the evening but it's warm rays wouldn't retire for another couple hours. She started up the stairs to the deck of the main lodge. She knew if there was anyone here yet before her, they would surely be found rummaging the kitchen.

* * *

"Hello, Camp Xavier!" her voice echoed against the tall pointed ceiling of the dining hall, which was mostly empty besides one table in the middle of the room.

"Jean!" a few voices said in unison. She could make out a large bucket of ice cream and several spoons in the middle. A rather bouncy raven-haired girl waved her spoon in the air, "Girl, how was the drive? Did you just get here?"

"Hey Jubes!" Jean smiled back as she walked up the rows of wooden bench like tables to greet the small crew. "Ro, Hank…" she nodded respectively to them all. "Yeah, I just pulled in. I knew I could find a couple of strangers up here."

"Oh God, Honey" Hank dramatically pulled his sunglasses down and peered through the top out the window, " _How in the actual hell did you manage to get that thing here from New York again?!"_ his eyes flashed a concerned look to the beat-up car out front.

"Oh, shush!" Jean laughed, "It got me here and that's all that matters. Besides, I'm a poor college student." She shrugged while the others glanced back and forth at each other, not as convinced.

"Oh yeah, okay, because the Grey's are totally on a budget." Hank rolled his eyes and Jubilee snickered along.

"So, who else is here already? Do we have a schedule posted yet?" Jean was eager to change the subject.

Although she her family was well to do, their financial health wasn't indicative of their personal relationships. Jean had the high expectation to become a doctor, like her father and mother. It put a strain on her relationship with them and a big part of why she came out to the camp in the first place.

And oh, how she loved that car, it was the first thing she bought with her own money. She worked part time at the college bookstore and saved for two years. She couldn't wait to take the twelve-year-old hunk of junk home when she saw it for sale on the side of the road near campus. She will never forget her mother's bulging eyes when Jean pulled into the driveway for the first time during Christmas break. It absolutely horrified her parents. She delighted in their discomfort.

"Charles just posted the list earlier today." Ro took the hint and shifted the conversation back to their summer schedules, "Senior staff this year is me, you, Jubilee, and Hank. Along with a few others but those are the ones worth mentioning." She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, "We have some new junior staffers-"

"Freshies!" Hank interrupted dramatically, "Maybe this year we will _finally_ get some cuties! Well I mean, no offense, ladies. Y'all are gorgeous and all, but not really my cup of tea." he winked.

"Oh my god, Hank, keep it in your pants." Jean grinned, "We're not here to find you a husband."

Hank sank into his seat, exaggerating a pout.

"Like I was saying," Ororo butted back in, "We have some new junior staffers this year who are arriving sometime tonight or in the morning. We've got a lot of work to do in just a few short days to be ready to get our first batch of campers on Sunday. I guess there was a storm last week that blew a ton of big branches down. Logan has been working on getting the property back in shape."

A senior staffer was someone had at least two summers of experience at the camp and over 18 years old. Although there were about ten to twelve senior staffers every year, their small group has been staffing together for the past five summers. Junior staffers were usually new younger faces, typically their first or second summer at the camp. Sometimes they stayed the whole summer and sometimes they were volunteers for a few weeks.

The camp had a few full-time roles, Charles was the camp director, Logan was the director of Operations, and Betsy was the office manager. They lived on the camp and maintained it year-round. Then volunteer staffers would fill in during the summer. Senior staffers pretty much run the show in the summer, they know the routine and the camp like the back of their hands. The junior staffers take orders from them and help where they are designated.

All the summer staffers had a big old farmhouse they could stash their belongings in and several rooms filled with bunkbeds to sleep in between camp sessions. Typically, the staff stayed in the cabins with the kids, but camp sessions were two weeks long, then they had a weekend off, and another camp session would start up again.

"Alright, kiddos" Jean grabbed a spoon and dug into the slightly melted contents of the bucket. "I am going to go drop off my bag and see where I can pitch in before dinner. Speaking of, do we have a dinner plan?"

"We are roasting _wieners_ down by the bonfire pit around eight," Hank grinned cheekily.

"Weiner, eight o'clock, got it!" Jean turned and headed back towards the door, "Later gators!"

* * *

The rickety farmhouse screen door announced her arrival into the kitchen from the back porch. The ancient porcelain coated appliances remained just how she left them. She saw an open potato chip bag on the counter, clearly, she wasn't the first one to drop off her things. She snagged a chip and popped it in her mouth. She crunched along into the living room where two shabby mismatched couches and a radio on the beat-up coffee table greeted her. The farmhouse was old, it smelled musty, and its biggest technology upgrades in the last century was indoor plumbing and a radio. They didn't have TV but they always made their own entertainment. Some of her favorite memories of her life took place at camp, and particularly this farmhouse.

She wrapped her arms around herself while being lost in a gaze at the couch. Hank had been her first kiss on that worn fabric late one night almost five years ago. It was the _worst kiss ever_! He was the product of a gay man raised in a conservative family, assuming he had to at least "try" to be attracted to women. Thankfully, by the next summer he was confidently out and proud. They still laughed to this day about that awkward first kiss that did nothing for either one of them.

The stairs creaked giving in to her weight as she made her way to the top. The upstairs was two large bedrooms, one for the girls and one for the boys. With one shabby bathroom in between both rooms. Each room had about 8 bunks beds for the staffers and volunteers to use as their own tiny corner of the camp.

Jean could hear a light cross breeze wailing through the lattice of the open screen windows. She headed to the left into the girl's room and saw some bags dropped around the floor by a few of the beds. Staffers wisely claiming their territory early. There was some strategy to grabbing the best bunk, first you definitely didn't want to be the last to arrive and be left without options. If you slept too far from the window, the heat would choke you in your sleep. You also didn't want a room too far from the bathroom, so you could be one of the first to pop in the shower in the morning.

Jean chose the same bunk every year, the one right next to the window and only one bed away from the bath. It was the sweet spot. And despite several other staffers already checking in, her spot was always left untouched until she arrived, even if she were the last one.

Jean had a reputation at the camp of being the top dog. She was always seen as the mature one, thanks to her boring and strict upbringing. She quickly became Charles's right hand woman, she had the most responsibility and knew the ins and outs of the camp and how it should run. Perhaps he sensed a leadership quality in her or maybe he empathized her life and wanted to give her an opportunity to feel in control for once.

She was also ignorant to her own beauty. Her natural intensity and imitating attractiveness gave her a strong and powerful presence. There was some unspoken power she possessed without realizing it. People saw her as a natural leader and everyone around the camp respected her.

She flung her bag onto her old familiar bottom bunk and unzipped it. Rummaging around in the bag she pulled out a black tank top. Peeling off the old shirt from her thirteen-hour drive was divine. She pulled her thick mane into a ponytail and head for the main office cabin to officially check in.

* * *

"I knew I felt a shift in the wind." Charles said from behind his archaic oak desk. "Welcome back, dear." He looked up from behind his reading glasses with that familiar twinkle in his eye.

Jean stood in the doorway grinning ear to ear. She plopped down on a big chair in the corner across from him. She pulled her knees in tight and wrapped her arms around them like she always did. This was her comforting spot. Charles had become more than just the camp director to her, he'd become her mentor and encouraged her through the differences she faced at home with her parents over the years. She respected him and viewed him as more of a father figure than her own blood. With his support, she was able to find her sails and weather the storms in her life.

"How did finals go?" he plopped down the papers and turned his chair to face her in the corner.

"Eh, the usual" she shrugged, glad to be done with the stress of school for the summer.

"So, you did exceptionally well as usual?" he twinkled.

"Yeah, something like that." She laughed.

"Are you excited about your senior year?" He said it proudly, an emotion she hardly heard from her own parents.

She shrugged again, "I still have to then get my master's, then Ph.D., so this hardly feelings like an ending. More like a never ending beginning…"

"Well my dear, you have plenty of time." He reassured.

Jean was quiet, she had a list of master's programs she was preparing to apply to in the fall for the following year. But she would worry about that when she returned to New York.

He sensed the uneasiness in her, "We've got some exciting new," Charles said as he brought her back out of her thoughts. "We have a new position we created, a food service manager. We've been growing so much and staying busy year-round, it seemed like a natural decent idea."

Jean smirked, "Big changes here at Camp Xavier!"

"Speaking of, I can smell the fire, must be close to dinner time." He shifted his gaze out through the glass panes. The camp director's office had impressive large windows that overlooked part of the lake. Little tufts of smoke lifted to the sky from where the beach would be behind the lodge.

The smoky familiar burning wood scent reached her nose and she got up, making her way back to the door way.

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" she asked.

"Oh no, I've got some planning to finish up tonight, so I'll be eating quietly at home. You kids go on and have a little fun. There's a lot of work to be done the next few days, so enjoy it now." he assured her.

Charles's home was an oversized cabin in the woods behind the main lodge. It was the original hall for the camp until they built the new larger one off the lake in the 80's. Since then, it's been converted into the camp director's home, which Charles has served as for the past thirty years.

"Okie dokie, well I will leave you to it." She took one more glance at him behind the desk and headed down to the beach.

* * *

The sky was burning red against the clouds as the last bits of day sunk down into the earth. There was a large bonfire blazing on the beach with about ten logs in a circle around it. About twenty-five people showed up to mingle, getting acquainted or reacquainted for the summer.

" _Heeello_ , handsome!" Hank forcibly wriggled between Scott and Marie on a wooden log they were using as a bench around the fire. Marie was also a junior staffer, but this was her second year at the camp.

Scott perked up in amusement at Hank who was now theatrically batting his lashes at him.

"Uh, Hi." His blue eyes from under the baseball cap lit up visibly entertained. Scott had arrived in the morning and was immediately put to work helping Logan clear the beach in time for their bonfire. It was the first time he was able to sit after a long day in the sun.

"Excuse me, sugah, this log aint big 'nuff for the threes of us, ya heuh?" The fiery brunette quirked a brow at Hank.

"Oh sweetie, then you should find a new log, that one looks pretty empty." Hank fired back playfully pointing at another log. "Hank, _senior staffer_ , how do you do?" he emphasized his role at the camp while introducing himself to the two.

"Oh well 'scuse me!" Picked up a roasting fork and locked eyes with Hank while she pierced a wiener at the end the prongs. They were clearly teasing, Scott had the feeling they most likely met last summer.

They exchanged a playful look and then glanced over to the silent figure beside them.

He took his cue, "Scott Summers." He extended his hand out.

Hank took his hand and admired his firm shake, "Oh cute _and_ strong! I like you, Summers." Hank then reluctantly let go of Scott's hand and dusted the sand off his shorts. "Well, I'm a very popular man, my people need me."

Marie let out a raspy laugh watching Hank prance off to the next small crowd, "What a character if Ah eva saw one."

Scott shook his head in an agreed amusement.

"So, what brings ya out heuh, Summers?" His freshly appointed nickname from Hank was already catching on.

Scott shrugged nonchalantly, "Just trying something new. You?" he quickly took the focus off himself.

"Can't neva' blame a man for tryin' new things." Marie held the processed hot dog over the fire as it began to spit and sputter, protesting the flames. "Me? I jus' love being outdoors. There's something 'bout it that gits me feelin' gud."

Scott nodded. He looked up as the last bit of sunlight dimmed and the glow of the fire bounced off the faces around him. He saw Hank chatting Logan's ear off from across the fire. Logan was like a gargoyle, his expression stone and unchanged. Scott had observed this most of the day working with him.

Logan was rugged and barked out orders to Scott upon his arrival. He got a sense that it wasn't personal, and Logan carried a burly demeanor with everyone. Scott was relieved when he was put to work right away, he wasn't overly social and used the time to get to know the property. Logan was clearly older than college age, maybe early thirties?

Scott noticed Logan's expression changed for the first time the whole day. His eyes softened and perhaps maybe even saw the corner of his lip turn up into a smile? Scott looked over to what could have possibly cracked the marbled man's complexion.

It was hard to see through the smoke of the fire and twilight dusk, but he could make out a feminine figure approaching. Her hips and thick ponytail swayed along in harmony as she approached the gathering flashing a brilliant smile. She wrapped her arms around Logan and he squeezed her back by lifting her up, her sandy toes suspended momentarily off the ground.

She was exquisite. It was only the beginning of summer but somehow her skin was already perfectly sun kissed. Her long-toned legs glistened against the flame casting flickers of light. His eyes followed them up where her ripped cut off jeans teasingly hugged her hips. Scott felt as though the air had trapped in his lungs when his eyes skimmed her face. She had a stunning femininity laced with strength about her features. She was quite simply _sexy._

"Breath, Sugah" Marie teased as she blew on the blackened dog, cooling it off.

He was snapped back into reality.

"That's Queen Jean," she munched down on the dog, speaking between bites. "The redhead who rules them all around heuh."

Scott laughed, "What? Is there like some pecking order or something?"

"Yah. Didn't ya heuh from Mr. Fancy Pants? _Seni-ah_ and _juni-ah_ staff. We pretty much take orders from them. Like a weird camp fraternity."

"What makes her _the queen_?" he inquired. Clearly everyone else at the bonfire had gathered around her, excited by her presence.

"She's like Charles's daughter or somethin', well not really. She's been staffin' here for a long time now. But there's a feelin' about her, like she's in charge. There's jus' some things ya can't put inta words." Marie shrugged, "I jus' go long with it. It's nuthin' to be takin' too serious."

Scott mulled over this new information, watching her glide around giving her greetings.

"Kid, keep an eye on the fire." Logan approached the two and gestured at the fire pit in the sand.

"Sure, no problem." Scott stood up attentively like a solider.

"I'm headin' in for the night. Put it out when everyone is done." Logan didn't wait for a reply to his orders and faded into the darkness on the trail leading back up to camp.

Suddenly Jubilee was making her way around the circle of logs positioned around the fire. She was carrying a few cans and passing them out.

She stopped in front of Scott and Marie, "Cold one?" she grinned and held up two beers teasingly.

"Can we drink here?" Scott asked hesitantly.

Jubilee burst into laughter, "What are you going to tattle?"

"No, I just wasn't sure…" he felt the heat of his embarrassment on his face. Thank god for the ballcap covering his face.

"Yeah dude, we just have a few rules. We only drink when resident staffers aren't around – you know, like Charles and Logan. Also, we _never_ drink when kids are on the property. Otherwise, occasionally we have fun. It's a camp, not a nunnery." She cracked open the beer and held it out to him.

Scott took it and brought the cool metal can to his lips. The skunky cheap beer was refreshing and eased his social tension. Jubilee tossed one to Marie who caught it with one hand while still holding her half-eaten dog on the roasting fork with the other.

He sat back down and observed the scene some more. He wasn't big on talking but that didn't make him any less keen. His eyes darted from face to face. _Where did she go?_

* * *

Jean mingled for a while at the bonfire, mostly being bombarded with Hank who loved to jabber on about anything and everything. She sipped on a beer and nodded along to his story. She wasn't really listening though. Her heart was going a million miles an hour.

Logan was her first crush. She remembers coming to the camp during those final years of high school and her stomach filled with the flutters. There was something about him that was so irresistible, maybe it was way his muscles flexed while working around the grounds or his carefree don't-give-a-fuck attitude.

As she got older, he took more of a notice to her. The last couple years they flirted relentlessly over the summers. Eventually everyone started to catch on. Many of the male staffers throughout the years drooled over Jean but never dared to ask her out. They felt as if they would upset scary Logan.

But alas, it is all harmless, just a summer distraction. She was approaching her senior year of college. She thought maybe this summer Logan would truly see her as a real woman. At least, that's what she hoped for year after year. _Maybe this year they could be more?_

Her heart sank as she watched him saunter off into the woods, most likely back to his cabin. Logan never stayed late to gatherings, he could only do social events for so long before he retreated to his cave.

"You know, that drive really did me in," Jean finished her beer and forced out a yawn. "I think I am going to get ready for bed."

Hanks mouth dropped open, "Um, what? Jean you've only been here like half an hour, what the hell?"

"She's tired, you jerk!" Ro swatted at Hank.

"Thanks guys, I'll see you bright and early!" Jean grabbed another beer and cracked it open for the walk.

Her tired legs started up the path in the woods to the farmhouse, she wasn't totally lying about being tired. There came a fork in the path and if she took a left it would take her to the farmhouse, but that wasn't her intended destination. She glanced around making sure it was clear the jutted off to the right. The path off to the right lead her back to the lodge. However, she passed the lodge and kept going for about ten more minutes, finally coming to a lone cabin in the woods.

"Knock, knock!" She said into the screen door as she stood on the porch.

The wood floor creaked as a large figure approached, "Jean?" The voice sounded surprised.

"Hey!" Her stomach knotted. She knew where Logan's cabin was, but she had never had the courage or really excuse to visit.

He stood there a moment before opening his door and turning around, she followed him inside.

"What are you doing here?" He walked over to the small nook of a kitchen and grabbed a glass.

Jean inhaled deeply, "I just wanted to stop by. Catch up?"

Logan snorted, "Oh, catch up?" He grabbed a whiskey bottle and practically filled a glass to the brim.

"Sure, we're friends, right?" She swallowed, "I mean, I saw you leave the bonfire early and I didn't really get a chance to-"

"Drink?" Logan grabbed another glass, interrupting her rambling.

Jean's eyes got wide, _was she really going to have a drink here with Logan in his house? With no one around?_

"Yes," the words escaped her lips before she had made up her mind. If she wanted to be treated like an adult, she'd have to act like one. Besides, she was of age, nothing she was doing was a crime. However, she wasn't sure if she was going to like whiskey. She had a few beers here and there, but hard liquor was something she'd never indulged in.

Logan poured her a glass of her own and slide it across the counter to her. She wrapped her fingers around the cool glass and stared down at the amber liquid. As she brought it to her lips, the aroma burned her nostrils. She took a drink, maybe too big of one, and the whiskey burned down her throat to her belly. She quickly turned around, trying to hide her expression.

She walked over to the couch and plopped down on one side, making her jarring movements look intentional. Logan looking uneasy took a seat on the other side of the same couch.

"You know, if Xavier had any idea-" Logan started.

 _Fuck, does he still think I'm a little girl?_

"Logan, it's totally fine!" She took another sip, a smaller sip. The same tingling sensation.

She looked around the room, he was a simple man. Mostly wooden furniture, what you'd expect in a cabin. Nothing fancy, but neither was he.

She could feel the heat of his stare on her. She always liked the attention from him but this time it felt exciting and forbidden. She turned back towards him and her emerald gaze met his dark lusting eyes. She gulped down more of her drink.

She rested a hand on his leg, "It's good to see you." She felt the muscles in his thighs strain under her touch.

"Same, kid." The usual smartass was suddenly tight lipped. He took a long drink, finishing it in one swig. He leaned forward to set the glass on the coffee table. Then he put his face in his hands, resting on his knees.

She scooted over closer to him, "Everything, okay?" She lightly rested her hand on his forearm.

He looked over to the side at her next to him, "You should go."

She winced. Although she heard his words, she could see his body said differently.

Logan could sense the disappointment in her and it crushed him. He had watch Jean blossom into a stunning young woman. The last couple years there was something different about her, she had grown. He watched her strut around the camp like prey he would love to sink his teeth into. If Xavier had known she was here tonight, they would both lose their jobs. The difference for him was this was his livelihood, where he lived and worked. To lose his position would be to give up his life.

He leaned over placed his thumb on her chin, lightly stroking her bottom lip. He brought his mouth down on to hers and she quivered underneath. He tasted like sharp whiskey and raw grit. His lips were powerful against hers and she pulled her hand up to the side of his face, wanting more. She felt his breathing accelerate and thought her own heart was going to explode out of her chest.

Somehow, he managed to break away from her, leaving them both panting in the still silence.

"Don't ever think I don't want you." He stood up and she noticed the knot in his pants, she turned away blushing. His words were a warning. He had just completely unraveled her to give her a taste of the desire behind his eyes.

"Look," He continued, "We can't do this. You know that."

She nodded. _He was right_.

The glass drew to her lips and she finished up her drink. She got up from the couch and knew it was time to leave. She turned once more at the door and threw her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to his cheek where she planted a playful kiss.

"Good night, Darlin'" He slapped her on the ass as she exited onto the porch.

Jean waited until she was far enough down the path before she unleashed her mind.

 _Holy shit. Logan kissed me._ She let out a half wild and half amused laugh alone in the woods. She could still taste his musk lingering on her lips. She felt giddy. It was her first real kiss from a man. Hank really didn't count.

She then sighed, reality washing over her. It was fun, but he was right. She committed to keeping it playful between them and not letting any of this go to her head. She had a long summer ahead of her and needed to focus.

Twigs snapped beneath her as she continued down the path, suddenly feeling woozy. She took deep long breaths; a few beers and a heavy pour of whiskey wasn't a good idea for her small frame.

She was thankful when the large lodge came into view, but that meant she was only halfway back to the farmhouse. _Ugh, fuuuck._

Her head started spinning and she decided to rest against one of the beams under the deck for a minute. If she could just relax a moment, then she would carry on.

* * *

The group mingled for another hour, Scott staying relatively quiet and mostly observing the bunch. He enjoyed a couple more beers as the cool summer breeze skimmed off the lake and onto the shore. He was feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. He noticed the fire was dying out and contemplated getting more wood. He tried to read the crowd to see if they were winding down for the night. There were only a handful of people left, mostly everyone else stumbled back to the cabins.

"Alright, I am going to call it a night." Scott spoke up deciding to put out the fire. "I think we've got a big day tomorrow." He justified quickly.

"Oh, boo!" Hank swatted playfully pouted at Scott, "Well I guess the beer is gone, so party is over. Do you need any help, Summers?"

Scott shook his head, "Nah, it's all good. I'm going to put this out and head up." Scott gathered up the metal roasting forks and started picking up various cans in the sand while the embers glowed in the pit.

"Oh, you're such a good little helper!" Hank giggled with a hiccup. "Well I would love for a big strong man to walk me back to the farmhouse, but I see this is going to take you a minute and I need to get to the little boy's room asap. See you later, honey!" Scott watched him stagger off into the darkness and up the beach before turning into the woods.

He took off his cap and scratched his head for a moment looking around. All he had to do was throw some sand on the fire, toss the garbage bag into the dumpster by the lodge, and bring up the unused logs they never threw on the fire.

He remembered he saw Logan chopping wood earlier in the day and had been ordered to stack it against the lodge under the deck. He scooped up the two sturdy logs under his one arm while carrying the garbage and roasting forks in the other hand.

The crickets chirped in harmony as he walked up to the lodge. He decided to set down the logs at the stairs while he ran up and dropped off the garbage and roasting forks. After doing so, he returned down at the base of the stairs to scoop up the logs. He carried them around the back where it was almost pitch black under the big deck.

His foot caught under something and he lost his balance, sending him stumbling in the dark. His hat flew off, he dropped the logs, and then hit his head on a wooden beam all in an instant.

He groaned catching his fall with his hands before smashing into the dirt.

A small shriek ruptured in the dark next to him. Disoriented he rolled over on the ground, whipping out a small flashlight he had in his back pocket.

Less than three feet away the redheaded beauty was sitting on the ground with her back against a beam. He must have tripped over her legs. She held her hands up to the light in her face, her eyes glassy.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He brought the light down out of her face, dimly lighting them both under the deck.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" her voice wobbled with embarrassment, "Oh my god, are you bleeding?" She immediately got to her knees and scooted over to him, her delicate hands cupping each side of his face. He had a fresh stinging cut on his temple but nothing too deep or worrisome.

Scott tried to steady his breathing, the sudden chain of events leaving him feeling a little winded. His dark brown hair was thick and disheveled without his hat that landed somewhere in the dark.

"Uh, yeah." He found his voice and his hand reached up and touched his forehead wincing, "I mean, I'm fine. Are you okay?" Suddenly aware of how close they were, she sheepishly drew her hands from his face and folded them in her lap and she sat on her knees.

He straightened up, their heaving breathing mixed with a chorus of owls echoing off the lake.

She nodded quietly, "I'm fine. I'm so sorry. But what were you doing he-re?" she hiccuped, and he could smell the sting on her breath. _Whiskey? Was she drunk?_

"I was putting away the logs from the fire. Um," he hesitated, "What are _you_ doing here?" He was puzzled by this woman who was more stunning up close.

The blood rushed to her cheeks, "I was on my way back, and…" she stumbled for the right words. "You see, this is, uh, the best place to get cell service." She grinned. "Yeah, I needed to check my phone."

"Uh huh" Scott glanced over her fidgeting hands, "So under the deck here, you were checking your phone?"

She nodded, almost proud of her answer.

"Because the best service is right here?" He confirmed.

She nodded more vigorously. "You see, I was an expecting an email from school." She further elaborated the lie.

Suddenly the real world sunk in. He had this beauty right here alone in front of him, yet they were worlds apart. _School_. The words ripped him in half. Of course, she was a well-educated college goddess. He had barely made it through high school.

"Okay," he said dropping the topic, "Let's just get back to the farmhouse."

She nodded again and more hiccups spilled out as he helped her find her feet. He dusted himself off and grabbed his hat off the ground. This was enough excitement for one night.

"I'm Jean." She finally said breaking the silence while gripping his arm to steady her balance as they started down the path in the woods. It was only about a ten-minute walk on a clear sober day.

"Scott," he said back keeping a cool composure.

" _Summers_." She giggled.

"You know me?" he hadn't tried to hide the unexpected tone in his voice.

" _Well_ ," she grinned up at him, "Not really, but Hank has been gushing about you all night. So, if Hank knows you, then well, everyone knows you. Usually I wouldn't talk to a junior staffer on the first night. But don't get a big head about it-" a hiccup interrupted her teasing, and she stumbled over a root sticking up from the earth.

He caught her before she fell over and he steadied her again. He was starting to think getting back to the farmhouse was going to be impossible.

"Okay, up you go." He scooped her up in his arms without a word and she gave an exasperated sound.

"Hey! Put me down!" she chirped.

"Jesus, Jean, you're a walking hazard right now." He grunted as he started back up the path with her body against his and her legs dangling over his arm.

She silently agreed by throwing her arms up around his neck and resting her head against his chest. "Fine," she gave in. "But only because this is way easier than walking right now." She relaxed in his arms feeling his muscles tense beneath her and listening to his labored breathing.

They carried on in silence until they reached the glowing light hanging above the farmhouse door. He set her down by the back porch.

Jean smoothed her shorts with her hands, avoiding eye contact with him. "Hey, thanks for tonight," she sounded a little more sobered up with perhaps a hint of humility.

He nodded, "Sure."

He admired how even at midnight and slightly drunk, this messy headed ponytail in front of him was quite a site.

"Summers?" Her eyes finally meeting up at his, he could see an intensity in her eyes that echoed down into her core. There was something about this girl.

"Hm?" He wasn't the romantic type, but this felt like a scene in a movie where the guy kisses the girl and she melts in his arms.

"Could you not mention this?" she straightened up, becoming more serious and the words began to spill out of her. "This whole thing, with the deck and us in the woods. It's just you know, I have a standard around here. It just doesn't look good."

Suddenly the air was thick and awkward, but he understood. So much for that big movie moment.

"Sorry about your face, just pretend this never happened, okay?"

"Sure" he simply said.

Without another word she turned around disappeared through the door into the kitchen. The heat from her skin still clinging to him.


	3. The Cabin

_Ugh, Whiskey._

Jean stretched in bed and reached for her phone while trying to open her eyes. The sunlight was torture. She glanced at the clock, it was eight in the morning. She sat up, propping her weight on her elbows as she glanced around the room. _Everyone must already be at breakfast._ Perhaps a little toast in her stomach would help ease the headache. She wasn't a big drinker, so this was a new sensation.

Her bare feet swept across the old worn hardwood floor and onto the cool tile of that bathroom. She stripped off her shorts and tank to step into the cool shower. The hot water heater didn't work that well, or hardly ever, but amidst a hot and humid summer it was never a problem. The cool water ran through her hair and cascaded down her curves. She closed her eyes, enjoying being back in the old home.

After returning to her room she threw on her well loved "Camp Xavier" t-shirt and ripped jean shorts. Her amber hair was still in thick damp ringlets, but it helped keep her cool. She slipped on a worn pair of sneakers before slipping out the back door.

She entered the lodge and was greeted by glorious wafts of fresh baked goodies and sausage. _What in the world?_

Typically, their volunteer chef for the summer just put out the toaster with some bread and cereal on days the campers weren't on site. The staffers never had such luck on their own in the kitchen. She walked up to the front of the large room to see a display of biscuits and gravy, fresh eggs, grits, and country potatoes. She wasn't much of a breakfast person, but she couldn't resist grabbing for a plate.

"Mon Amie, ma Cherie," A thick Cajun accent walked out of the swinging kitchen door with a fresh plate of _crepes._ Jean's mouth watered, the light and fluffy breakfast delicacies were her favorite.

The Cajun set the plate down with the rest of the feast, then wiped his paws on his apron. "Remy LeBeau, I'm da new chef," he extended his hand.

Ah yes, the new kitchen manager that Charles told her about _._ Jean grinned and put her hand into his, and immediately he brought it up to his mouth for a peck. She blushed.

"Jean," she replied and withdrew her hand, filling her plate with crepes, "This looks amazing!"

"Merci! I got da same reac'shun from yo' friends. Mon Dieu, do you all not eat?" He had a bandana tied around his head. She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't this lively character in front of her. She welcomed the change, especially the crepes.

Jean laughed, "We just aren't used to such," she looked at the spread wide eyed, "special treatment."

Remy raised his brows, "Eat, mon amie! There's plenty mo' where dat came from!" He turned and exited back into the kitchen.

Jean scurried over to the tables where the staffers were finishing up their meals, the lack of conversations was a change, everyone too busy eating. She saw an empty seat next to Hank and Marie.

" _Oh my god,"_ she mouthed to them as she plopped down on the wooden bench. "Can you actually believe this?"

"All that and some biscuits and gravy, honey," Hank snapped his hand in the air.

"All that, alright," Marie wasn't looking at her food, but her eyes fixed on the kitchen door. "Ah need to git me a man like that!"

"Oh honey, yes!" Hank put his hand in the air and Marie gave it a firm slap.

Jean was feeling restored and more human after a couple of bites. The crepes melted in her mouth so perfectly. "God, these are seriously the best."

She noticed Scott come through the door and work his way to the front, most likely admiring the meal as well. Jean's stomach turned in a knot suddenly remembering her humiliating 'walk' home.

"Summers!" Hank called out as he searched where to take a seat. _Ugh, no._

Jean kicked Hank from under the table, "Stop!" she mouthed to him, her back to Scott.

"What?" He gave her a perplexed look, "God, don't be such a monster. You _do_ need to eat!"

"Summers, sweetie, Jean has a seat right here for you!" He motioned over to the space on the bench. _Kill me._

Scott paused a moment before taking the vacant spot. Jean looked down at his plate, _just eggs and toast? He's so vanilla._

"Morning," he sipped a cup of black coffee. _More boring,_ Jean thought.

She held her breath, hoping he wouldn't bring up last night.

"Jean was _just_ telling us how divine the crepes are! You _have_ to try one!" Hank gushed on, batting his lashes.

"Eh," Scott shrugged.

"Woah, you don't like crepes?" Jean had to comment on the crime.

Scott glanced at her plate, "I don't know, I've never had one."

Jean shrieked, "You've never had a crepe before?" Hank and Marie also looked up at him.

"Did ya grow up unda' a rock, Sugah?" Marie laughed.

Scott went back to his eggs, "Something like that."

Hank finished his plate and got up at the same time as Marie.

"Oh lord, well this is too much excitement for me this morning! I'll catch you all later," Hank locked arms with Marie and they took off.

Jean and Scott ate in silence side by side for a lifetime, well maybe it was just a minute. Time has a way of creeping by when the air is uncomfortable.

"Um, last night," she started, not sure what the hell she was going to say.

"Don't mention it." He finished his eggs and started on his toast.

Jean pushed around the small bits of food left on her plate, "You must think-".

He put his fork down, "It's really hard to pretend something didn't happen if you keep trying to talk about it."

And that was that. He was going to keep her secret like he agreed to the night before. _Thank God._

He got up, "Logan needed some more help today, so I better go find him."

 _Logan._ His name sent little tingles up her belly.

* * *

With some hard work and a little luck, the staffers managed to get the camp in order by the time the first campers arrived. The cabins were cleaned, camp store stocked, and activities planned for the upcoming kids. The camp hosted two-week sessions for various age groups. Starting the summer with the younger kids, each session was an older group of kids up through high school. They were primarily foster care kids, looking forward to this week every year, being free to be a kid without the harsh realities of their living situations creeping in on their little minds.

During a normal routine, the kids to get up at 7:00 a.m. to make their beds and tidy their cabins, then meet at the lodge for breakfast by 8:00 a.m. After they do a big camp activity like hiking, swimming, or play kickball. They returned to the main lodge for lunch around noon followed by an hour of quiet time in the cabin. The kids get the afternoons free, so they could hang out and make friends, craft, swim, and do whatever their hearts desired. Dinner was at 5:00 p.m. and afterwards they had a differently nightly activity until bedtime. Sometimes it was a bonfire, a movie in the lodge, or team building. Despite all the efforts to wear them out, they had ceaseless energy and soaked up all the fun. After the first week, staffers were surviving on little bits of sleep and loads of coffee.

Each staffer played counselor during the week, sleeping in their assigned cabins with about 10-12 campers. It was always amusing watching the newbies acclimate to this new role. Late nights, band aids on scrapes, shuffling kids around camp, lots of activities, peer mediating, encouraging growth, and minimal sleep. Essentially a counselor needs to be a parent, friend, lifeguard, mentor, coordinator, caretaker, teacher, planner, and guide for two weeks straight. It's not a glamourous lifestyle, but it fills up the heart. Giving these kids an opportunity to thrive is priceless.

Most of the campers returned every year, while a few of the lucky ones would occasionally get plucked for adoption. The truth was, older kids weren't favored for families over the little precious babies. Knowing this, the staffers always poured all their time, compassion, and energy into making these kids have the greatest two weeks of their year.

The best feeling was seeing a hundred curious and excited faces bounce off the school buses on opening day. Some of them were first timers who needed a little extra comforting, but usually by the end of camp they were begging to stay longer.

Scott was thrust into his new role of being a cabin counselor. The distraction was welcomed after his awkward first night with Jean. Bedtime was about nine in the evening, but none of the boys were sleeping until about midnight. They whispered eagerly in the dark to their new friends. Scott pretended he couldn't hear their gibberish banter or see their flashlights they snuck under the blankets as they read comics late into the night. He never had close friendships growing up and was amused and entertained by the boys. _Let the kids be kids,_ he thought to himself. Typically, around midnight he would finally tell them it was "time for bed, for real this time." And the boys would simmer down and fall asleep for a few hours before springing about of bed with refreshed vigor in the morning.

During the first Friday of a camp session there is a tradition. The staffers take the kids for a couple mile hike in the woods and then set up tents and enjoy a weekend of real camping, ditching the cabins for a few nights. This gives some of the resident and volunteer staff a chance to get the camp in order for another week.

"How's this look?" Scott dumped a large bag on the ground that was slung over his shoulder.

The boys scurried around him like ants, "Yeah! Oh, this is so cool!" One of them jumped up in the air, a wild fit of excitement. Another boy had already picked up some sticks off the ground, "Can we build a fire now?" This made all their eyes light up and begin cheering, "Yeah! Yeah!"

Scott laughed, "Okay, one at a time. We need to get the tents set up first, _then_ we can worry about the fire."

They were about a hundred feet from the edge of the lake. They whole camp hiked up together , shouts echoing off the trees could be heard as the rest of the groups picked their spots nearby. The tents were usually arranged in little clusters, with all of them relatively close since they shared the same fire for cooking.

"Aww," their shoulders drooped in disappointment, "But why, th'cott?" One little boy with a thick lisp asked. The boys grabbed the little tent bags, enough to fit two of them at a time. When they were finished they would have six tents total, five for two campers each and one for Scott.

"We've got to be smart," Scott tapped the top of his hat, motioning to his brain. "We need to use the rest of the sunlight to build our tents, then we will get our fire started. Otherwise it will just burn up wood while we work, and we need to practice being resourceful out in the wilderness."

The boys must have thought that was a good answer because they began chattering wildly as they dumped out their tent bags. A jumble of sticks and nylon. Scott realized this was going to take longer than intended so he started going around one by one to help them get their shelters assembled. On more than one occasion, he had to remind them that tent poles aren't swords.

As soon as their mini village was set up, it was time for hotdogs and s'mores. The kids sprang from one activity to the next with ceaseless stamina. Logan had the fire going at the edge of the lake. He always attended the camping weekends, he kept an eye on things in case there was an emergency. It seemed like there should be some sort of adult around. It helped that he looked like the kind of guy that could survive in the woods alone.

After all the bellies were full, most of the kids went back to their tents finally feeling the tiredness creep into their legs from the hike. Scott was helping tidy up when he noticed a shadow against the rim of the lake. He watched it a moment, an odd shape, and then it moved. He walked over to investigate.

"Full moon," a little boy sniffled, wiping his nose and hiding his tears with the back of his dirty arm. Scott recognized that the voice belonged to someone in his cabin.

"Sure is." Scott bent down and took a seat next to the boy. They both looked out onto lake shining by the light of the lone moon.

Scott knew the boy had been crying by the finishing sniffles and was now trying to conceal it.

"Sometimes when I spend time in nature, it makes me feel really happy," Scott finally spoke after a minute of listening to the song of the night creatures.

The little voice agreed, "Me too."

Scott continued, "Nature is…" he searched for the right word, "Dependable, always there, always calm."

The boy nodded and sat up taller, more confident, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Being strong isn't about...being tough all the time." Summers took off his hat and put it on the kid, "Being strong is having courage to be true to yourself."

The kid's eyes lit up proudly as the hat swallowed up his peanut head, "You think so?"

Scott laughed softly, "Yeah, I know so."

* * *

Jean could hear a slight murmur of voices while she did a final sweep through of the campfire spot to make sure all the kids were in their tents. She walked over to the edge of the woods, barely being able to make out two figures sitting at the edge of the lake. She who it was by the shape of the hat.

She rested her weight against the skinny trunk of a tree, observing in the dark. She knew he didn't have any experience with kids coming into this summer and it shocked her how well he was adapting. She tried to keep an eye on the new staffers during their first session to help them out if needed. Every time come to check up on him, he was holding his own. He seemed to be a natural and the kids loved him.

She didn't have to listen to know what they were talking about. She'd had her fair share of tough conversations with campers over the years. Coming here was like putting on an empty back pack. You go around taking a stone out of the bags of each kid and put it into your own bag. Until they go back with an empty bag, but yours is overflowing. Carrying their fears and doubts while encouraging their strength and emotions was a tough act, but they did it year after year.

Even from a distance she could sense a gentleness Scott displayed with the boy. She sighed watching the beautiful moment. She twirled a strand of hair mindlessly around her finger.

"A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out here in the dark," Logan's low voice made her jump.

"Oh my god, you scared me," She clutched her chest and breathed out relief.

Logan stood close to her, she swore she could feel the heat from his presence. His brawn features accentuated by the moonlight. She bit her lower lip anxiously in the dark thinking about his lips on hers last weekend.

She turned her attention back to Scott, _keep it together, Jean_. Logan followed her eyes, seeing what was capturing her attention.

"What do you think about the new guy, Summers?" Jean asked nonchalantly.

Logan grunted, "What do _you_ think about him?"

Jean swatted at him, "Oh, Logan!" She rolled her eyes ignoring him, "He's good with them, don't you think?"

"Yeah, he does his job. I can't complain." Logan shrugged. "Now let's get it wrapped up tonight."

Jean glanced at the dimly glowing watch on her wrist, "Yeah, it's getting late. Looks like they are finishing up anyways."

They both turned and made their way back to the fire that was now a heap of simmering coals.

Jean rubbed the sides of her arms as the night breeze caressed her skin leaving a trail of goosebumps. Logan caught on and threw his arm around her as they walked up the short path to the tents. She rested her head against the side of his body as they slowed to a stop, needing to head separate ways.

"I can think of some ways to warm you up in my tent if you need," Logan teased. It was dark, but he'd bet her pretty little cheeks were warmed up now.

Jean sucked the air into her lungs and pulled away from him, clearly flustered, "Good night, Logan."

She flashed a cheeky smile at him and headed off to her tent.

* * *

Just like that, two weeks ended in a flash. It was bittersweet. The staffers were desperately looking forward to a few days of rest before the next session started, but there was always a heavy pit in their chest as they watched the kids pack up and head out back into the world that had already rejected them. There were always tears from the younger kids as they clutched their counselors tightly saying goodbye. The adults tried to keep their composure and not giving away how much their hearts ached for them.

After the final bus left, Scott retreated to the farmhouse. He immediately went upstairs to claim the shower while it was vacant for once. It was nice to get a moment alone after sharing a community bathroom and showers most of the week. The door protested as he shut and locked it, the warped oak rubbing against the frame.

Scott felt as if he had lived a lifetime in the past two weeks. He cranked the shower lever and stepped into the cool stream. He closed his eyes and a flashflood of emotion came over him. Between the all the endless activities, there were little conversations he had here and there with the boys in his cabin. They looked up to him and confided their fears in him. Their confused little faces shared in private with him how they wanted a family, and at times asking him 'what was wrong with them that no one wanted them'. They were too young to experience so much unfairness in their short existence. The pain was all too familiar. He carried their little worries throughout the week and it all came spilling out once finally alone. His face contorted and without realizing it, he was sobbing uncontrollably. He wept as the chilly water mixed with salty tears and swirled down the drain.

He hadn't cried in years. He was confident of it because he couldn't even remember the last time he had allowed himself to become vulnerable such emotion. It didn't make him feel any better, the pain still lingered, but there was something so freeing about the sentimental release. He gathered himself together and finished up. Besides, he had a long summer ahead of him. He never expected a simple summer job that enticed him with free lodging and meals to end up impacting him so deeply.

* * *

"Are we almost there?" Hank whined.

Jean, Jubilee, Marie, Ororo, Hank, and Scott were hiking through the woods together. It was early August and they had one more session of the summer left enjoying their last break. There was an old cabin on the property that Jubilee swore was haunted so they all thought it would be fun to spend one of their free nights in it. They would enjoy some drinks and feeling spooky like kids again.

"It's literally been like fifteen minutes." Ororo rolled her eyes at her ridiculous friend.

Hank shook his head, "I really think this idea sucks. Ghosts are the worst!"

Marie joined in, "Y'all are sumthin' else. Maybe we can get Remy down heuh to voodoo the evil spirits out."

"Oh god, the last thing we need is ghosts _and_ voodoo!" Hank only joined because he didn't want to get stuck helping Logan with some awful chore he'd inevitably assign.

They finally saw a dilapidated a-frame cabin come into view. The windows were cracked and the door was a dark rusted color, clearly weathered and splintered. Who knows how long it had sit unoccupied.

"Yes! This is it!" Jubilee squealed as they walked up to the porch. The door creaked open as she pushed through first. There was a scamper across the lofted area above them. Hank shrieked, suddenly a squirrel dashed out between their legs. They all let out a nervous laugh while venturing further inside.

The cabin wasn't very large, perhaps maybe even cozy back in it's prime. The main floor had a little sitting room, small bathroom, and kitchen against the back wall with a door leading to a deck behind the building, presumably rotted out. There were stairs that led up to a loft on top. They dropped their bags on the ground once inside. It was damp and smelled like wet decaying wood.

"Well if this is really going to happen, I am going to need a drink," Hank rummaged through the beer backpack and lined the cans up on the cracked linoleum countertop.

Scott's eyes wandered around the dismal room. The yellowed wallpaper curled in the corners, but the beams looked surprisingly sturdy. While the others rolled out their sleeping bags, he decided to explore the loft. Carefully started up the stairs, he took cautious steps, avoiding one of the treads that looked ready to collapse. He reached the top and it was a giant open room with the cathedral ceiling pointing up from the a-frame. It had an old wooden chair in the corner but otherwise it was empty. The front of the room had a large sliding door and some windows with a small deck attached from the top. He decided venturing out on the deck wasn't the best idea in case it was rotted out.

Through the hazy panes his eyes were fixated out the window. The cabin was snuggly surrounded by trees, with a small view peeking out of the lake above the tops of them. He could easily see why someone picked this spot when the cabin was being planned in it's infancy.

He heard the stairs groan as someone else came up. He quickly walked over at the top to see the wavy haired red head joining him.

"Careful," he reached out for her hand and helped boost her over the broken step. She grabbed on and made her way to the top.

"Thanks," her voice echoed against the emptiness of the room and tall ceilings. Her eyes landed on the front of the room and they grew in size, "Oh wow, look at this view!"

Scott smiled, crossing his arms and looking out the window where her green orbs were fixed.

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same." The lake was comforting to him. There was a peace about the calm waters that he hadn't experienced in his life until this summer.

"Oh lawd, look at this dump!" Marie lumbered up the stairs. "Can ya believe it?"

Jean leaned against the front wall after turning around to see Marie walk up to them. The tendrils of her camp tossed hair burned as the sunset light danced around her face, making her glow. Somehow her beauty could compete with the already stunning view. She looked so relaxed, confident, and in her element. She looked like she belonged here with this gorgeous view. Scott admired how she didn't go on about the beat up house like the others, but instantly saw the same beauty in this place like he.

"It's not that _baaaad_ ," Jean snickered.

"Puhlease, what is this like the size of your pool house?" Hank had overheard them and was joining in now too.

 _Pool house?_ Scott couldn't recall if he'd ever even seen one. Maybe in a movie at some point. _What was the purpose of having a smaller house in the back yard of a bigger house? Just for a pool?_ He had caught hints here and there from the comments over the summer that Jean's family was clearly loaded. She never seemed to really play into it though and that old hunker she drove would suggest otherwise.

Jean ignored the audacious comment, "Aren't we supposed to be ghost hunting or something?"

"I already found the ghost of bad taste," Hank tugged on what was left of a ratty curtain dangling from an old rusted rod.

* * *

Over the next few hours they had some drinks and swapped eerie stories. Hank sat inside of his sleeping bag, everything zipped but his face. He declared it his 'ghost shield'. Jubilee insisted that they would experience some paranormal occurrences, but their eyes grew heavy with the lack of excitement. Ororo fell asleep first, shortly followed by Marie. Jubilee was persistent and anchored herself to a chair, ready for any haunted action. However, the only think that possessed her was sleep as her lids drooped and she fell asleep sitting up.

Hank refused to leave the safety of his sleeping bag, turning on his flashlight for every little bump or sound, which was usually just the wind blowing. Scott headed up to the loft seeking some more space to spread out, trying to avoid the creakiest part of the stairs. The moonlight played peekaboo on the lake as it glistened on and off between the clouds.

He laid on the bare hardwood floor, folding his arms behind his neck and resting his head. Cobalt eyes watched the cloud silhouettes glow, making mysterious shapes through the cracked window pane. A calmness settled inside of him.

The serene moment was interrupted by the stairs. The sound of someone slowly creeping up. A few seconds later, Jean peered from around the top.

"Hi," she whispered with a little wave.

Scott sat up slightly, resting his elbows against the floor, propping up his weight. "Hi." He whispered back.

"Can I join you?" She had her sleeping bag tucked under her arm as she walked over and rolled it out.

"Yeah, of course." His words were hushed.

"Ugh, Hank kept turning on and off that damn light. I couldn't take it anymore," She grinned and unzipped her bag. She paused, "Uh, where's your sleeping bag?" She just noticed he was laying on the bare ground.

Scott laid back down, "Didn't bring it."

She scrunched her nose up, "Why?" She didn't understand why someone would _want_ to sleep on old hard floors.

"Truthfully, I don't have one." He simply said with his eyes closed. He hated the questions that centered around him.

Jean put her hands on her hips, " _You don't have one?_ Who comes to camp without a sleeping bag? _"_

He could tell she was in shock and could agree it himself that it sounded absurd, "I'm fine."

Unsettled with his response, she unzipped her bag all the way and spread it out so it was double the width. She kneeled on one side and patted the other.

"Let's share," she grinned, pleased with her solution.

Scott sat up, "Ha, Jean, no it's fine." He was taken back by the kind gesture.

"Oh c'mon, it's not a big deal."

He could tell she wasn't going to take any other answer than yes. He slid over to the side she designated for him. Her sleeping bag was soft, probably a fancy one. He had to admit, it was way more comfortable than the bare pine.

She settled down next to him, about a foot apart, "Isn't that better?" she whispered proudly.

"Yeah, yeah," his voice was playful.

The last time they were this close was the night they stumbled into each other under the deck. Even though it was six weeks ago, it felt like a lifetime. He had grown fond of the camp and their little group of friends. For the first time he felt he belonged somewhere, maybe even a part of something.

Scott listened to Jean's breathing slow into a tranquil rhythm. He dared to look over at her, admiring the long lashes kissing her cheeks. She looked like a porcelain doll against the pale moonlight blanketing her face. Her presence was soothing, a feeling he rarely encountered in others throughout his life.

For once, his mind was soothed enough to relax before sleep. Most nights he laid awake for hours in bed before exhaustion took over and forced him to sleep. He turned his head back to the ceiling, eyelids growing heavy to the lullaby of her breathing.

* * *

Hank made sure they were all up early, counting down the minute until they left the dingy cabin. The bags under his eyes suggested he might not have even gone to sleep at all. He went up to wake Scott and Jean in the loft.

"Oh, scandalous!" Hank stomped across the floor making no effort to conceal his presence.

Jean stirred, looking a little dazed, "It's so early."

Scott sat up right away and put on his hat that was on the ground beside him. He slept like a stone even if it was for a handful of hours.

Jean yawned, "Scott forgot his sleeping bag," the yawn intensified as she covered her mouth before she could finish, "So I let him share mine." She fibbed for him to save him the embarrassment of not having one.

"Whatever honey, just get your asses down here so we can leave this creepster place and get some coffee." Hank spun around and hurried down to finish gathering their bags.

"Thanks for that," Scott started rolling up the sleeping bag after Jean got to her feet.

"I can keep secrets too," she winked.

* * *

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Scott stood in the doorway looking into the office.

Charles smiled warmly, "Scott, yes, come in and take a seat," he gestured at the chair across from him.

Scott entered and took the direction. One side of the room lined with windows, the other lined with tall oak bookcases, filled with books of every shape and size.

"You've been enjoying yourself this summer?" Charles asked.

Scott couldn't find the words to express what this experience meant to him, "Yes, very much," was what he managed to come up with.

Charles nodded, "Everyone talks highly of you. You've really thrived here, I can tell too."

He didn't think his performance was mention worthy. He showed up and did his job every day, took care of the kids, and pitched in where he could in between.

"You know, some people aren't as naturally adequate in such an environment. I can you enjoy it." Charles grabbed a packet off the top of a stack of papers, "Tell me, what do you plan to do when the summer is over?"

Scott's heart sank to think that in a few weeks they would all be departing. He tried to put off the thoughts as long as possible, but reality was knocking.

"I'm not sure, sir." He gave an honest reply.

Charles nodded again, "I had a feeling that would be your answer."

Although having spent little time together, Charles had a way of observing and knowing things, kind of like himself. Scott had formed a distant fondness and respect for the old man this summer.

The unspoken truth was hanging in the air between them. Bluntly, Scott had nowhere to go. He grew up an orphan himself, in and out of foster care and various hellish living conditions. When he turned eighteen he was booted out of the system. He welcomed the freedom, but it came with its own set of struggles. He spent the last couple of years finding work here and there, surfing couches and occasionally shelters. Perhaps a big reason why he connected so well with the campers who were facing the same realities as his own youth.

"I have an old friend, Erik, who runs a therapy camp for children with disabilities and gifted learners in Arizona. They have a slightly larger set up than we do here. Traditionally they hire staff with degrees in child development, but I know a qualified candidate when I see one. Some skills you can't learn in books, like compassion. Which I feel is in you."

The chair creaked as Scott perked up in it.

"Now I spoke to Erik and he could use a temporary assistant, someone to help him run the program. His current program assistant is pregnant and anticipating a maternity leave mid fall through the spring. She isn't due until September, but we think it would be a good idea to get some training in while she is still working, she can personally teach you. I told Erik how highly we feel of you here and thought you would be a great fit."

"Sir," Scott could barely believe what he was hearing.

"Now, the pay isn't spectacular. Only about $300 per week, but all your lodging and meals of course would be covered on the property. I think you would be a supreme fit, if you accept," Charles extended the packet he was holding over the desk.

 _Three hundred dollars a week!_ Scott had certainly done his fair of miserable jobs for less, he would have welcomed as little as twenty bucks a week at times. He took the packet and looked it over.

' **Camp Magneto's Employee Contract** ' _Was he really holding a job offer in his hands?_

"I don't know what to say," Scott tried to find his words.

"Well?" Charles stood up and walked around to the side of Scott's seat.

Scott rose up, "Yes, sir, I would be honored. Thank you for this opportunity," he shook the old man's hand firmly.

"That's wonderful," his eyes twinkled, "I just need you to sign the back page and I will get it faxed right over. They will be pleased and honored to have you. I'll arrange the travel plans."

Scott picked up a pen on the desk, he felt the weight of his shoulders lifted as he scratched his name on the paper.

"And Scott, when you are finished there, I would love to have you back again next summer," Charles added as he scooped up the freshly inked papers.

* * *

The summer was wrapping up as the last session started, highschoolers. Generally, there were less campers in that age bracket and they were older, needing less supervision. The teens weren't as wild as the younger kids, and the staffers were grateful to not be chasing them around full speed all day. They generally sat around in groups under the trees to seek shade, hanging out between activities.

"Hey, toots!" Hank popped into the camp store. Marie looked up from behind the counter where she was manning the register for the afternoon.

"What's shakin', Sugah?" the brunette was flipping through pages of a magazine that was probably at least a couple years old.

"Just trying to beat the heat," Hank plopped down on an empty mismatched chair. Most of the furnishings were donated or bought from second hand shops.

"You would neva' survive the south," Marie laughed. "Did you heuh Summers is heading south for the winter? Charles got him a job at anotha' camp."

Hank sighed, "Oh god, they are so lucky. He's a dreamboat." He leaned in as if he were about to drop some juicy gossip but didn't bother to lower his voice, "Oh speaking of dreamboat, guess who I caught sleeping with Summers?" Hank wiggled his brows up and down.

Marie set down the magazine, clearly interested, "I'm listenin'"

"Jean!" Hank blurt out unable to contain himself.

Marie's eyes doubled in size and she put her finger up to her lips in a "hush" motion. She lowered her voice, "Logan is in the back, he's fixin' sumthin' up," They stored overflow shirts, mugs, and bug spray in the small back room behind the counter where they sat. A pipe was leaking earlier in the day when Marie noticed water on the floor and reported it.

Hank glanced behind him at the door ajar a few feet away. He knew that Logan and Jean had some weird flirty thing, but never thought anything of it.

"They like…slept togetha'…for real?" Marie's hushed voice finally reacted to Hank's news.

"Ugh, well I guess technically, yes," He matched her whisper with disappointment. "But like, literally, just sleeping. I guess he forgot his sleeping bag up at the cabin and they were just sharing hers."

Marie rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine, "Hank, you ain't right. That's not excitin'. You always goin' 'round making things sound bigga' than they are."

Hank waved her off with his hands, "Oh, whatever."

Logan came through the door behind them, the chunky tool belt clattering at his waist.

"Hey, pumpkin," Hank greeted. Logan didn't answer, deep lines in his brow.

Marie shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension, "Everything gud, Sugah?"

"Just fine." His serious tone silenced them as the screen door slammed behind him.

* * *

The water lapped the side of the boathouse as Scott untangled a box of rods. He was still on his high from his new position he accepted a few days ago. He hadn't been to Arizona and wasn't sure what to expect. He was told the new camp was out in the mountains, which is something that excited him, he'd always wanted to see mountains. On top of that, he would be returning to Camp Xavier next summer. The stability he'd been given for the upcoming year elevated his spirits.

Burly steps creaked on the boards outside and he knew who it was without looking. He tossed the tackles into a pile as he worked through the mess of fishing line.

"I'm just finishing this up," Scott said with his back to the door, hearing Logan enter. Scott assumed he was coming to give him another task for the afternoon. They were winding down the summer and slowly getting organized as they drew closer to an end.

Scott turned around when his comment was met with silence. Logan stood between him and the door, arms crossed and brooding.

 _What the hell is his deal?_ Logan looked taut than the usual scowl.

"Stay away from her," Logan growled.

"What?" Scott was puzzled, "Who?"

This sent Logan over the edge and he took a few hard steps at Scott, grabbing the collar of his shirt. His hat flew off from the jerking motion.

"Don't you fucking touch _her_ ," Logan's words seethed.

Scott grabbed at Logan's fist clenching his shirt and shoved him off, "Logan, _what the fuck!"_ It was the first time Scott had spoken to anyone at the camp so boldly. He'd had his fair share of sticking up for himself between shit labor jobs but never felt threatened here, until now.

Logan looked like he was ready to put his fist through Scott's face, "I'm only going to tell you once."

Scott stood there breathing heavy, "What are you talking about?" He demanded an answer.

" _Jean,"_ Logan breathed her name out like fire, "Are you fucking her?"

Scott's brows shot up, caught off guard. "No!" _Was this really what all this was about?_

"I overheard you slept with her up at some cabin," his large frame stood like a boulder unmoving.

Scott shook his head, "Absolutely not." He grabbed his hat off the floor and settled it back on top of his head, "I mean, we _slept_ near each other, but not _like that."_ Scott noticed Logan's expression was unchanged. "We were all sleeping in the cabin together," he elaborated, not wanting to find out what Logan's fists felt like.

Scott couldn't believe what was happening. He couldn't risk losing his new job or not being asked back because Logan was on a ridiculous rampage. He'd dealt with guys like this, the types that think they can throw their weight around and intimidate people. Anger tingled inside of him, _I don't owe this asshole an explanation._

"What's it to you, anyways?" Scott stood a little taller, "You don't own her, or me." _What a creepy bastard._ He'd watch him eye her up and down all summer like a piece of meat.

"Charles might like you, but I'm not buying the fucking _pretty boy act_ ," Logan's nostril flared.

 _Is Logan jealous…of me? About Jean? Being favored by Charles?_ It was difficult for Scott to process.

"Watch yourself," Logan's tone a warning, "This is me asking _nicely."_ Then he stomped off, leaving Scott alone in the small shack.

Scott leaned against the wooden work bench, his heart racing at light speed. He couldn't understand why Logan had taken it upon himself to act as her keeper. Or why it upset him at all? Did Logan and Jean have something deeper he didn't know about?

He shook his head, _have her, you piece of shit._ He worked hard to gain the little that he did this summer and he wasn't going to have Jean, Logan, or anyone ruin it for him.

 _She's not worth it._

* * *

"Hey! Congrats on the new gig!" Jean was in the farmhouse kitchen munching on an apple when Scott entered through the rickety door.

"Thanks," he barely acknowledged her and walked through to the living room.

Jean frowned and followed him, "I thought you'd be way more excited! I found out through Jubes but I haven't had a spare moment the past couple of days to properly celebrate with you!" She tried to keep her tone lighthearted, but he was unmoved. Her brows quirked, "Hey, what's the matter?"

 _You, Jean,_ he wanted to say but stayed silent.

Her eyes softened, "Everything okay, Summers?"

He headed up the stairs ignoring her, but she persisted tagging along.

"Scott?" her voice laced with worry.

He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, "Leave me alone."

She hesitated, her mouth turned downward surprised at his response, "Wh-what?" The words caught in her throat.

"You heard me." He slammed the door in her face, taking a page out of what he assumed would be Logan's book. If she liked assholes, he could be one.

Jean's emerald eyes glistened as they welled with tears. She heard the shower turn on. _What the hell?_ What had she done to evoke such a response from him? She didn't think this side of him existed.

She walked over and sank on her bunk, moisture running down her cheek. She hadn't expected to find such a solid friendship from him this summer, but she did. They all did. Her mind was reeling with anxiety. _Was this the true Scott Summers coming out?_ _Now that summer is over, he doesn't give a shit?_ She couldn't make any tangible conclusions.

A brown package rested on the ground at the foot of her bunk. Earlier in the week she had snuck out to the main office. She borrowed a computer to order a parting gift for Scott. It arrived this morning and she was brimming with excitement to get a moment alone with him. She had to leave early since her fall semester started before camp ended. Her plan was to say her goodbyes tonight and take off early in the morning.

It seemed that Scott had been avoiding her all afternoon, she didn't _actually_ think that he was.

She wiped her cheeks, _He's not worth it._

* * *

Once in the shower, Scott tried to wash away the painful look in Jean's eyes. He convinced himself to shake it off and return to his duties. The campers were leaving in a couple days and they would all be gone by the end of the week. He had bigger things to concentrate on.

He successfully avoided Jean the rest of the night, which was easy to do since she voluntarily made herself absent around him and avoided eye contact. _Logan would be pleased,_ he thought. He spent the night in the cabin with his campers as usual and focused on spending some more time with them before their departure. They deserved a pleasant week, free from any of his bullshit going on.

The next morning, he decided to skip breakfast and lunch, not wanting to find out what mood Logan was going to be in for the day. _Bipolar asshole._

A few of his campers expressed wanting to swim after lunch so he told them he'd meet them down by the beach when they were finished so he could lifeguard the group.

He made his way down to the shore, expecting the kids to arrive any minute. Jubilee was pulling up some kayaks out of the water.

"I'll take that," Scott jogged up and took the kayak from her.

"Thanks, dude," Jubilee caught her breath, "What was in the package?" She perked up curiously.

Scott pulled the last kayak up onto the shore and shook his head, "What?"

Jubilee plopped down into the sand, resting for a moment. "Yeah, the one Jean left for you."

His face gave away his confusion.

"Didn't she tell you when she said goodbye?"

"Goodbye?" Scott looked down at her.

"God, don't you know anything?" Jubilee teased but then her expression turned serious, "Didn't you say goodbye to Jean? She left for New York this morning."

He suddenly felt like a monster. He had no idea she was leaving early. He had a moment of weakness with his outburst at her, but his emotions were running high after his run in with Logan. He probably would have handled himself better if he knew that was going to be their goodbye.

"Oh, right." Scott played along, he didn't want to give away their altercation and Jubilee was gullible enough to believe it. "I haven't been in the house today, I'll check it out later."

He didn't blame Jean for not telling him she was leaving. Deep down he felt disappointment stir inside of him.

"She's so square sometimes. I would be glad to have an excuse to miss my first week of class," the sand sifted through her fingers mindlessly, "Ugh, but sadly my classes start in two weeks and I won't be so lucky."

Scott saw a group of teens coming down the path, "Alright, well I've got to go play lifeguard. Catch ya, later." He straightened his cap and walked over to meet the boys.

* * *

Scott held his breath as he walked up the stairs in the farmhouse that evening. The campers were watching a movie in the lodge and he took an opportunity to sneak out. Jubilee mentioned a package waiting for him and he wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe it was a letter bomb after how he acted towards her, _he deserved that._

Walking across the room, he saw it. Right on his bunk sat a decent sized box with a postcard on top that read, "SUMMERS" in large letters across left side where the address goes. The right side was full of beautiful loops and twirls, "Into the woods I go, to lose my mind, and find my soul. – Jean"

He flipped the card over and it said "Welcome to Camp Xavier" with a scenic view of the lake in the fall. His lips curled at the corners, that silly girl must have got this from the camp store _._

 _God, I'm suck a jerk._

The package sat on the bed like an elephant in the room. He slid a small utility knife out of his back pocket and it sprang open to cut a slit into the top of the tape. He folded back the box flaps to find a sea of packing peanuts. He buried his hands in and felt a sturdy large object. The Styrofoam spilled out like snow as he lifted the object out.

 _Oh, Jean!_ He felt a lump in his throat. A brand-new Patagonia sleeping bag beamed in his hands. The tag had a long list of features and information, it probably cost a ridiculous amount. The amount didn't matter because her gesture was already priceless. It was the first gift he'd _ever_ received from anyone.

He slumped down on the bed feeling elated and miserable all at the same time.


	4. Mending Benches

"How was your summer, dear?" The pristine white door slid open and a thin porcelain figure rigidly stepped through. Her expression fixed as she wobbled through the stone across the patio, avoiding slopes and dips in the slate.

Jean was laying poolside on a beige lounge chair, her hair in a bun and dark shades concealing her own lack of expression. She was really the only one who used the pool, and she came home only a handful of weeks out of the year. It amused her parents probably still had the pool boy come week after week to maintain it all summer even though it remained untouched. Jean arrived a few hours earlier and was relieved when she was greeted by an empty house. She never minded the long drive, it gave her time to reset after the summer. Besides, she absolutely hated flying.

She spent the last thousand miles feeling as though she'd been on a rollercoaster. Driving off the camp property and in the safety of the middle of nowhere, her tears began to flow. A combination of another amazing summer, dreading the upcoming senior year of college, and attempting to work past the hurt and confusion from Scott. By the time she needed to make her first quick stop to fuel up, she was already feeling better. She spent the next couple hours belting out man-hating tunes with the wind whipping through her hair. There's nothing a little Alanis Morrissette and a bag of Twizzlers can't fix. By the time she arrived home, Scott was well out of her mind. She was taking care of each obstacle one at a time, next she had to focus on her dreaded parents for a night and then tackle school.

"Fine," Jean's tone was flat, and her body remain undisturbed by her mother's sudden presence. She sighed internally, _I guess they needed to come home at some point, this is their house after all._

She heard her mother's unsteady heels click closer, "I saw that dreadful thing in the driveway, so I assumed you were back already. You really ought to put it in the garage. Heavens, someone might see it one of these days," Suddenly her tone became condescendingly sweet, "Or why don't you let your father replace it finally? Hm? Maybe a nice new Mercedes!"

Jean was convinced that if her mother's face wasn't full of fillers, it might have almost moved out of excitement. But she chose to ignore the comment, her mother had been begging her for years to ditch her ride to save them from the neighborhood embarrassment. However, the more her mother resisted, the more appealing it was to keep the old steed.

"I'm not staying long," Jean grabbed her iced tea off the small glass table beside her and took a sip.

"Oh?" Mrs. Grey's tone was almost disappointed. She too was a natural redhead, but it was dyed 'suburban conservative blonde', as Jean would call it. "Well, I was hoping you'd stick around for Sunday night dinner. I invited over the Carlisle's, they'd love to see you," Jean's mother paused, "Their son, Robert, is in town and he will be joining us."

 _There it is._

Where the stone ended around the pool, perfectly trimmed rose bushes grew. There were expansive patches of flowers throughout the rest of the yard, tidy and groomed. Jean had never seen her mother plant anything her whole life despite their yard being her prized possession, but enough money can buy you a good gardener. She never knew why her parents needed such an impressive estate for their small family. She was the only child and rarely saw her father outside of his practice, and even when he was home, she rarely had a conversation with him that didn't feel she was an employee or acquaintance.

"Robert is going to be a surgeon," Mrs. Grey's voice perked up, trying to be convincing, "He's just handsome as ever and just started his residency, and single…"

"O-okay, that's enough of that!" Jean's stoical expression finally cracked, "Sorry Mother, I won't be dining with Dr. Bob," She stood up, placing her shades on the lounger. Her eyes narrowed at an identical set of green eyes standing a few feet away.

Her mother huffed, "I just think it would be nice to get to know him."

Jean walked over to the water, turning her back to her mother, "Well I've got to get back to school and ready for class."

"I really wish you would come home more often, surely you can't be so busy during the year." Mrs. Grey threw her hands up in the air, "Or you should spend your summers here in New York at least, instead of going to that charity camp every year. You really should take some time to meet a nice young man-"

Jean's head whipped around, "It's a camp for orphans, Mother, not a charity," she hissed. Typically, she could brush off her mother's insensitive rich bubble, but occasionally she still let it get to her. She hated when she showed her mother how far under her skin she'd gotten. It was almost like a game they played, who could be more repulsive to the other until one of them finally leaves.

"Whatever the difference, dear." The blonde had a way of dismissing anything that brought her daughter joy.

Jean walked over to the diving board, the hot stone burning her bare feet. She leapt into the air and plunged into the cool water. The last thing she saw was her mother's horrified expression, most likely terrified of getting wet.

 _She'd probably melt_ , the thought amused her as she skimmed the bottom tiles of the pool.

* * *

Scott survived his first plane ride down to Arizona. Charles had arranged Scott's travel and Marie dropped him off at the airport on her way back down to Tennessee, it worked out well. He was a little overwhelmed with his first time through airport security, but thankfully with just a backpack and sleeping bag, it wasn't the nightmare he was prepared to deal with from horror stories he had heard from others in past conversations in passing.

The plane trip itself was easy, like a nicer Greyhound that gives out better snacks. He wondered if the flight crew ever felt displaced at times. Rarely being home, but perhaps the open skies were more like home to them than their lonely flats back in their hometowns. Scott was surprised at how smooth the actual ride was in the air. It lulled him to sleep for a good portion of the flight.

When his plane touched down, a van was waiting for him already. It was about an hour drive until they pulled up to the camp tucked in the mountains between Phoenix and Tucson. The drive was exhilarating, never-ending landscapes filled with large red rock formations peppered with sequoias and shrub. For whatever reason, he always had this idea that Arizona was just all deserts and tumbleweeds. It was a pleasant surprised to see a wide variety of geological features that rolled and jutted out of the earth in all different ways.

The van pulled off the main road and down a red dusty road. They passed under the entrance to the camp that looked like a big ranch sign that hung over the road. About another ten minutes up the road they finally stopped. Scott wasn't sure what to expect, but he had come this far and was ready to take on this new endeavor.

Erik was older like Charles, a tad taller, blunter. Scott knew they would get along just fine, as long as this this camp didn't have a sulky Logan type stomping around. Raven, his current program director, was a kind girl maybe a few years older than him. She drove him around camp with her round belly protruding, showing him the whole property. She helped train him not only on her job duties, but also working with special needs children. It was a new challenge for him, but he soon found how rewarding it was.

Victor was sort of like Camp Magneto's Logan, but with long blonde hair and way more tolerable. Victor had a small two-bedroom pueblo style house on the edge of the property. It was agreed that Scott would live with Victor for his temporary long stay at the camp. Scott was just grateful for a small space to call his own for a while.

* * *

"I think you should go to school in Chicago!" a peppy voice said on the other side of the phone.

Jean laughed, pacing her quaint dorm room while watching the snowflakes dance around her window, "Hank, I have to pick one of the places I actually applied to. Besides, if I came to Chicago, we'd get into too much trouble together. I'd never graduate!"

"Aw, fair."

"I'm leaning towards the University of Washington" she collapsed on the twin bed, grabbing a pamphlet that was sitting on her side table. Her eyes skimmed the little pictures of the far away foreign campus.

The voice on the other end choked, "Washington! Like Seattle? Oh my God, that's so far! I knew you applied, but God, I didn't actually think you'd consider it."

Jean grinned silently, "Yeah, that's the point."

"Girl, I know you hate your parents but that's a tad extreme, don't you think?" he tried to talk some sense into her.

"I _have_ to, Hank. I can't handle them constantly trying to set me up with all the doctor Bobs and Wall Street Joe's. Even being this close is suffocating and I'm over an hour away!"

"They can set me up anytime!" Hank attempted a joke, but it fell flat, "Okay, seriously, I'm sure Seattle is cool. But you know airplanes exist, and phones, and all these things that can't stop your parents from still being present in your life. It's the twenty first century, sweetie."

An irritated sigh responded, "Phone calls, let alone planned visits are _way_ too much effort for them. Trust me, I'll be safer out there."

"Or you could stop being so passive with them and finally just stick up for yourself. You really go out of your way to act like you don't care about the biggest thing in your life that's got you messed up, girl."

"Hank, c'mon. Just please be supportive for once without your grandiose know-it-all opinions getting in the way."

The phone was silent for a moment, then there was a defeated sigh, "At least it's a real city. Maybe we can get into some fun trouble when I visit."

"Well then great, it's decided!" Jean was relieved, she couldn't wait to tell her parents. A non ivy league grad school was probably not what they had in mind for her. She delighted in the awkward way her parents would be forced to inevitably tell their rich friends that their only daughter was a total failure in their eyes. At least she'd get a chance to be far away for a couple of years.

* * *

After the first couple weeks of getting acquainted with the new camp, everything seemed to go smoothly. Scott's work hours were docile, only needing to be present in the office and around camp from the morning until late afternoon. Most nights he would stick around and pitch in some more since he had little else to do. Camp Magneto had horses were used for therapeutic rides for some of the more skillfully advanced campers. Scott became familiar with the equines for the first time in his life. He enjoyed their steady and reliable temperament. They must have enjoyed him too because even the most stubborn horse took a liking to him.

Scott spent most of his spare time with Victor, learning more skills and helping however he could be needed. They got along well, Scott was trying to absorb everything he could learn like a sponge and Victor was impressed with his dedication. Victor was updating some of the old structures on site and Scott would tag along. Victor taught Scott how to rip out old cabinets and dated built in bookshelves, frame new walls, repair screens, refinish patina floors, build a deck, stain wood, and all sorts of other various projects. Occasionally, after some hard labor, they would pull up a couple of lawn chairs behind the pueblo and crack a beer together. He enjoyed Arizona, it wasn't quite Michigan, but he spent most of his time outdoors and the weather was mild heading into winter. He started working out with Victor early in the morning, while the sun was still sleeping. Scott found a new freedom in running. It felt good to get his body and mind moving as the day was just starting. He noticed he was focusing better and feeling healthy.

Before he knew it, Raven was already on her maternity leave and Scott was well on his way of being the interim program assistant all on his own, training wheels off. Occasionally Scott would run errands into town for Erik. On one of the trips he went in to open his first bank account. It wasn't as difficult as he'd was able to arrange a direct deposit from the camp, and although it wasn't much it started to add up. Shopping wasn't a regular occurrence, but he was able to replace some of his old clothing and shoes with nicer, more durable clothing that would hold up to the elements in his new role. He had a decent stock of t-shirts between Camp Xavier, Camp Magneto, and various free shirt's they'd get leftover from retreats.

Within six months he felt reborn. He was given a second chance and he was set on making the most of it, he owed it to Charles to not waste this opportunity. He owed it to himself, after all these years he felt he was finally working hard towards something and he deserved it. It was hard for him to believe that he had been homeless a year before.

* * *

The spring semester was a whirlwind and before Jean knew it, she was an accomplished woman with a degree. She packed up her tiny dorm and gave a tearful goodbye. With all her belongings packed up in her car, she headed straight for camp. She didn't feel like stopping by her parents just for them to try and talk her into a new car or new grad school choice. Besides, they were out of the country and probably didn't even remember it was her move out week.

On this trip back to Michigan, she sang louder than ever to her favorite songs. She bounced in her seat, feeling weightless and full of life. She had avoided her parents and was about to spend another fantastic summer filled with long nights listening to the crickets' sing and the smell of campfire in her hair. She was slightly bummed that Ororo wouldn't be joining this summer. She had also graduated and accepted a job right away, leaving no time for summer fun. Jean wasn't ready to admit her own days at camp were numbered. In the fall she'd be off to grad school, and from there it would probably be only another summer or so until she'd have to join the rigid workforce as well.

Jean pet the top of the dashboard lovingly as she pulled up to the main office at last, "Well, you did it again!" She stepped out of the car and gave a long stretch, the kind that makes your back pop with satisfying tingles. She figured since she came right after graduation without stopping home, she'd be the first one to arrive. It might be nice to relax a few days on the lake before beginning their summer work.

She made her way through the smaller building, destined for good company in her favorite corner chair. The redhead knocked on the partially open door and opened it wider, to see Charles and a man sitting across from him at his desk. The man had his back to her and she immediately withdrew, embarrassed that she had barged in.

"Oh gosh! Sorry! I didn't even think anyone would be in here! I can come back later," Apologies leaked from her lips as she started to turn back around.

"Jean," Charles called after her, "Welcome back, dear. I didn't know you'd be coming early. Please come take a seat," his tone was soft and inviting, as usual.

"Oh no, I didn't mean to interrupt,"

"Nothing to interrupt, this includes you too," Charles motioned to the empty seat next to the man, "You remember, Scott, yes?"

The man turned around in his seat and lifted two fingers up in a silent hello. Jean froze, she had completely forgotten about Scott and he was the last person she thought she'd see at camp already. He was different though. _Definitely a lot more tan…and…something else?_ She couldn't quite articulate from her quick reintroduction what was different, maybe her memory was just bad. She forced a smile and walked over to the seat.

"I do remember, Scott." She said stiffly. She sat in her seat like it was made out of needles, trying not to look at the jerk next to her.

"Fantastic! I'm sure you two have some catching up you'd like to do, but first I wanted to tell you about my vision for this summer."

 _The last thing I want to do is catch up with Scott._ She rolled her hypothetical eyes. She wasn't sure what he needed to speak to them both about. Jean helped plan out the summer and activities, then when it was settled, she gave out instructions and guidance to the rest of the staffers for the summer. That's how they always did it.

"Scott just got back from Camp Magento a few days ago and has been sharing some wonderful new perspectives on camp management. I'd like to incorporate some of his ideas into our schedule this summer. Perhaps focus on more team and social building skills." Charles picked up two folders sitting in front of him and handed them out to each of them.

Annoying. He worked at one other camp and Charles is acting like Scott knows everything suddenly. "Okay," Jean said deciding she should suck it up and at least appease Charles. "I'll look things over and work on it."

Scott shifted in his seat, maybe he was uncomfortable. _Good._

"Actually Jean, I am going to have you co-lead this year with Scott. Since you are going off to grad school in the fall, I think it would be good for Scott to learn some more around here-"

Jean put her hands up, "Woah, I am coming back next year. It's not like you need to replace me," her tone was slightly defensive.

"Jean, you are always welcome here. Truthfully, your studies might start to take precedence as you excel in your academics," Charles observed the stern girl across from him, "We are growing. Each year we've had more campers, we simply need more help. Scott is a great helper, you said so yourself last year. Let's all work together to make this another great year."

She knew there was no point in arguing. She _did_ tell Charles that Scott was a great addition to their staff and a natural leader. However, that was _before_ he was a selfish jerk wad. Her ponytail bobbed as she nodded in agreement.

"Sounds great. I'm going to go drop off somethings at the farmhouse," She stood from her chair and made her way to the door, "I'll stop by later, Charles." She wanted to visit with him without Scott around, until then she'd try and not let this co-leading crap completely ruin the next couple of months.

* * *

 _Well, this is awkward._

Scott was hoping to see Jean alone, caught off guard by his first interaction with her this year being in Charles' office unexpectedly. He wanted to get a chance to apologize and hopefully hit some sort of reset button in their friendship. He hoped maybe she'd even forgotten about the whole incident at the end of the summer, however her reaction told him she definitely hadn't.

He watched Jean give the professor a big hug before taking off out of the office, like he was the plague she was avoiding. He assumed he deserved that, not trying to take it too personal before being able to explain himself.

Scott exited the office and made his way to the farmhouse, hoping to catch the redhead. His feet felt heavy and unsure as he made his way up to the screen door from the back deck of the kitchen. The spot of their infamous first meeting. The whishing of the breeze through the open windows was the only sign of life inside. His eyes caught Jean's bags resting on her favorite bunk. She must have dropped them and took off.

His first idea was to check the main lodge, maybe she was hungry after her long ride. But he knew better. She was most likely already running off to see Logan and he had no desire to burst that reunion. Things with Logan the past week since he arrived had been cordial. Not great, not terrible. Logan definitely reserved a special attitude towards him but nothing he couldn't handle.

When Raven returned to Camp Magneto, they offered to let him stay until Camp Xavier's season started. When Scott called up Xavier to find out when he should come out for the summer, Xavier told Scott he would love if he came early and help get prepped for the summer early. Scott eagerly accepted. He wasn't sure what to expect from Logan with anticipation of it just being a few of them at the camp for a couple of weeks. However, Scott had also determined he wasn't going to put up with his moody bullshit this year or be bullied around. Thankfully, he didn't really have to establish his own dominance. Logan would never compliment him, but he could tell Scott was more useful this year. Scott pulled his weight and then some around the camp and Logan stayed out of his way. This was all before Jean's early arrival and Scott wasn't looking to rock the boat this early in the summer.

Later in the evening Scott decided to take a run through the trails of the woods when his work for the day was done. He hadn't seen Jean the rest of the day but decided to let the whole situation simmer. She had just spent the past two days driving to camp and probably needed some space. He let the calming and familiar smells of the lake drifting through the trees restore his peace. He kept up his habit of running to relieve stress and center himself since returning to the camp. Sweat glistened on his brow as his labored breath as he pounded down the path.

He made it about halfway around the lake and decided to turn around. Scott chose a new trail for the run back, taking in new views and big oaks that encouraged him along the way. The trees were happy to show off their fresh summer leaves for their visitor. An unruly root twisted up out of the ground in the middle of the dirt and the toe of Scott's shoe caught the edge, plucking him off the path and stumbling forward. He put his hands out instinctively and caught himself on a rough tree trunk right in time.

Scott collapsed his back against the trunk to catch his breath, _that was close._

His eyes adjusted as he looked around while taking a short break. This place felt familiar. He got up to continue his trip back to the farmhouse and his eye caught the worn red door. It was the decayed cabin they stayed in last summer, almost perfectly hidden in the woods. A smile worked its way unknowingly on his face and he gravitated towards it. He let out a small laugh to himself remembering Hank's fear of ghosts.

The floorboards of the porch moaned as he walked up the stairs and walked inside the abandoned structure. His eyes examined the insides, completely untouched since their last visit. A beer can on the counter caught his eye. He walked over and picked it up, it was still shiny and clearly the newest object in the room. It was a can of Natty Ice, he smirked. It was left over from their last visit. He felt the memories rush back to him like it was yesterday, then followed by a stinging feeling in his gut. It was the trip that Jean went back and bought him the sleeping bag after. Then another wave of emotion, this time anger, because this was the incident apparently that led Logan to almost beat his ass over. The aluminum collapsing echoed in the room as he crushed the can in his hand and set it back down.

Attempting to distract himself, he gave the room a good once over. After his experience with Victor and restoring old smaller buildings, he could see this place had real potential. The structure seemed sound, just needing some repairs on the beams. Of course, it was in desperate need of a new deck, some fresh paint, and new flooring, along with a long list of other things, but most of it was all cosmetic.

Scott crossed his arms sternly and walked through the small a-frame cabin once more. He peeked upstairs in the loft and made some mental notes. The bare spot on the ground where Jean shared her sleeping bag with him tore at his gut, like the elephant in the room ran over and stomped him.

* * *

Jean decided she deserved some downtime upon her arrival. She was a week earlier than she normally arrived and wanted to put off her duties for a couple days. There was plenty of time to begin planning her, well _their_ , part later in the week and still have a head start. She tried to scout out her ally, Logan, but judging by his dusty pickup truck being absent, he was most likely on a trip or errands which he typically did for anything they needed for camp. She chose to spend the rest of the evening curled up in Charles' office, rambling away about her last year and her senior thesis presentation. Charles was surprised to hear about her going all the way to Washington in the fall but assured her she would excel like everything else she sets her mind to.

She managed to get to bed early enough to avoid any company. Her eyes and legs felt like they were filled with wet cement. She dragged herself up to her bunk and slumped down, listening to the frogs bursting with song in the summer air. The old mattress springs creaked, welcoming her back in an early summer sonnet. Suddenly she felt light and weightless as she drifted off to sleep without a trace of a care in the world.

Sometimes a person sleeps so deep, they forget where they are, or even who they are. Jean woke up in a haze, blinking wildly as the sun crept over her face from the old warped glass pane. She shot up and looked around. The humid wood smell of the house waft into her nostrils and her conscious flooded back to her. _I'm home._

She sprang out of bed with refreshed energy and sprang into the shower, swinging her hips along with the beat of the song she cranked from the old radio in her room. Her voice cracked as she sang along, careless and soaking up the summer aura still in its infancy. She ran a towel through her hair, letting the warm weather do the rest of the work and slipped on her favorite worn pair of jean shorts and an old camp t-shirt.

Jean grabbed breakfast from the main lodge in response to her rumbling stomach. Road trip snacks are exactly the most nourishing meals, and her system was still trying to counter the five bags of Twizzlers she commandeered on her drive from New York. Remy was still head chef at the camp, and she was greeted just as robustly as the year before by the lively Cajun. He whipped her up some cheesy grits which she happily enjoyed for the first time.

They spent the next couple of hours chatting away. Remy shared some of his favorite experiences of his first year at the camp through his thick accent. Jean propped herself up on the industrial metal kitchen counter and giggled along with his animated stories. She couldn't think of anyone better in the kitchen than Chef LeBeau.

After her tummy and spirits were filled, the redhead popped in her headphones and went for a mid-morning walk. She made her way down to the lakefront, daring to dip her toes in. Shivers tingled up the skin of her arms, the water still a tad chilly for swimming. It was only late May but within a few weeks the temperature would be divine on a hot steamy day.

She wandered where ever her legs would lead her, through some of the trails, up around the cabins, and through a large field in the center of the camp. Although she couldn't hear much with the tunes beating in her ear, something caught her eye and she pulled out her headphones to concentrate. A plume of dirt was gathering up the road as a faded black pick-up truck rocked down the dirt road towards her. She bit down on her lower lip out of nervous excitement and her green eyes sparked. _Logan!_

Jean playfully stuck her thumb out from the side of the road and the brakes squealed as the old truck slowed, Logan propped his arm up on the steering wheel, his precise burly features staring her down.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here?" His expression and tone told her that he was genuinely pleased at her sighting.

"Just looking for a ride, sir" Jean mimicked a silly little innocent southern accent.

Logan leaned over and threw open the passenger door in one quick motion, "Hop in, Darlin'"

Jean popped up into the passenger seat, the old worn leather smooth against the underside of her bare thighs. She threw herself over and wrapped her arms around Logan's neck, he put the pickup into drive and the truck began to ramble back down the path.

"It's my lucky day. Welcome back, kid," she felt his cheeks press against her, she could bet he was smiling. She sat back down on her side of the truck, her body half turned watching the sun hit his thick brown hair and catch little patches of his facial hair as the light danced through the leaves. The sound of the tires grinding the gravel and stale lingering smell of cigars in his truck was relaxing to her.

"You're early this year," he raised a brow while glancing her way. He looked back to the road and then snuck in another peek of her, swallowing her whole in a nanosecond. His gaze always felt like fire, she fought to keep her nerves under control. Her silly summer crush coming crashing back down on her.

"And you're late!" She teased. "Where were you?"

"I had to make a trip up north. Needed some supplies like paint and new hammers," he nudged his head motioning to the back of the pick-up. Jean peered through the pale rear window of the cab and she could see various boxes and tools packed up in the back.

"It took you two days to find hammers?" She raised her own brow this time at him.

Logan gave her a look from the side of his eye. She couldn't read what it was. Amusement? Anger? He was so difficult to read sometimes. He grabbed the shift from behind the steering wheel and threw them into park as he pulled up to the old barn tucked in the trees that acted as their maintenance building. Back in the day, the story is that the camp was an old pig farm. The barn is peeling and has seen better days, but it's perfect for storing tools and makes a great work space for fixing or building various things.

"You gonna sit there and look pretty or make yourself useful?" The pickup rocked as Logan slid out and shut the door behind him. Jean followed suit and watched him pop open the back tailgate.

He grabbed the boxes roughly and disappeared into the barn door. Jean tried to pick one up, but it was far too heavy, she managed to slide it a few inches. Logan emerged back out and picked up a smaller box in the back and handed it to Jean, finding the perfect size box that wasn't too heavy for her. She followed him in with another round of various supplies.

They piled it all up in the middle, "That's good enough for now," Logan shut the tailgate of the pick up and walked back into the barn. The light from the giant open doors poured in and lit up the inside. Dust mingled in the air from their footsteps and Jean propped herself up on a wooden work table, letting her legs dangle carelessly beneath her.

"Charles says this was a busy year," She watched him work roughly with his hands, ripping open the boxes and emptying out the contents.

"Busiest one yet and this summer our numbers are even higher than last year. I guess we got some more grant money and Charles used some of it for advertising, reaching more families," he confirmed.

"That's awesome!" Jean slapped her hand against her thigh, "So do you think you'll manage okay keeping up with everything on your own?"

Logan shrugged, "I guess with Summers back, we've got more hands-on board to help out with this kind of stuff," he said it slightly annoyed, almost as if he didn't want to admit how useful Scott really was.

"Oh right," Jean blew the air threw her lips, forgetting about precious Scott Summers gracing his presence with them again this year. But if Logan could accept they could use him, perhaps she should deal with it too. It was for the better of the camp overall despite her personal issues with him, and she cared ultimately much more about Camp Xavier than ridiculous temporary Scott.

* * *

After a much-needed carefree day, Jean was feeling more loosened and relaxed. Like a slack rope. She lounged on the couch in the farmhouse with her feet swung over the side of the arm in the little living room. Deciding to suck it up, earlier she grabbed the folder that Charles had given her and Scott upon her arrival. She skimmed the sheets like a radar, looking for anything out of the usual, perhaps some new stupid idea by Scott that she'd have to explain why it won't work.

However, it was quite the opposite. Not many things were different other than some team building exercises that incorporated the kids learning some more skills and pitching in to help with projects around the camp. It was genius actually. Logan could focus on the big stuff while the kids did things like build picnic tables and repaint signs while working together. She disliked how much she loved some of these new ideas popping out on the pages.

There were footsteps and some rumbling noises just outside the kitchen screen door that made Jean jump. She sat up and decided to investigate. Outside from the dim light of the light above the door she saw a messy haired Scott Summers setting down a bench. She observed him for a moment, watching him move the bench up against the peeled siding of the house.

"Where'd you get that?" Jean finally spoke up.

Scott stood straight up, "Oh God, you scared me," he breathed with a small laugh. Then the silence hung for a moment with the crickets chirping between them. His smile faded and turned more serious, "Uh, just found it laying around in a scrap pile by the barn. Decided to strip it and give it a fresh coat of stain earlier this week. It's as good as new."

Jean nodded slightly, "Mmhm, well that's a good spot for it." She could tell he was being cautious with her. Perhaps he wasn't going to be a total dick this year. "Sooo, I started looking over the plans for this summer-"

"Jean, wait." Scott stopped her and looked a little apprehensive, "I need to apologize first."

Her brows raised to the heavens, caught off guard. Was he apologizing because he meant it or because he was just trying to look good and be cordial for the summer?

"Sit?" he motioned down to the newly placed bench. He took a seat on one end and she walked through the door and joined him. They sat a foot apart and she wasn't sure what to expect.

His face twisted, as if he were about to speak a few times then he finally blew out the air it seemed he was holding in his lungs.

"Jean, I'm sorry. I was a total ass last year-" He could tell she wanted to speak but he held up his hand and continued, "No, I mean it. I wanted to tell you last summer but next thing I knew you were gone. It doesn't make it right. Then I was hoping to catch you right away this summer, but you blew in like the wind and caught me off guard. I'm such a jerk-"

Jean's expression softened, "Scott,"

"No, I'm a huge jerk." He scooped up her hands in his own. His skin was warm and soft. "This place is important to me. Your friendship is important to me. I just acted out of selfishness and you didn't deserve that. And I owe you a giant thank you for your thoughtful gift."

This is the most she had heard him speak ever and he was being genuine and humble. The gesture touched her core and melted a little bit of the icy resentment she reserved for him. She realized they were still touching and she slipped her hand away from his and into her own lap, slightly uncomfortable.

"Scott, it's fine." She gave him an encouraging smile, the porch light slightly lighting up his boyish features. Except he wasn't really a boy, he was more mature and softer. Not this pent-up puzzle like he seemed last year. Although he still always had her guessing, and this was no exception. "I was definitely a little hurt but not like, torn up or anything," she lied.

"Well I just wanted you to know how I felt. It was the first gift I've ever had and it was…" he searched for the word, "perfect."

She grinned, "C'mon, now you're just cheesin' me."

"No, seriously!" He laughed, and his voice was like an olive branch, the peace between them finally restored and the conversation turning lighter.

Jean rolled her eyes and swatted at his chest hitting it with a light thud, "Oh the first gift ever?" she teased, "I accepted your apology, don't feel like you need to win me over anymore."

Scott's laugh faded, "No really, it was the first time anyone has given me anything out of niceness…or just because."

The redhead studied his eyes growing more somber and her mouth fell slightly open to the realization, "Oh my God, you're like not joking right now are you?" _What fucked up planet is this guy from?_

Scott shrugged, "It's not a big deal. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciated it."

She could sense he was becoming awkward and decided to shift their conversation back on track, "Well Scott, I also appreciate you for your apology and I think I'll try and tolerate you this summer," she winked at him playfully.


	5. Sense and Sensibility

The setting sun twinkled against the lake in a sparking display as the small crowd started to gather on the beach. It was their ritual summer kick-off staffing bonfire, always held the Friday before the first campers arrived on Sunday. Remy had prepped them a tray of grilled corn and prawns to go with their regular hotdog and s'mores roast. Everyone was looking forward to another summer of him spoiling them with his culinary magic.

The typical reunion was filled with hugs and laughter, catching up with each other and cracking a few beers. There was a bummed moment from the group as they learned Ororo wouldn't be back this year, but they didn't linger on it too long, deciding to focus on their new junior staffers instead. Bobby and Kitty were fresh faces to the group, still in high-school.

Jean wiggled her finger at Hank teasingly on the log they shared, "Easy there, he's a baby."

Hank's whole face lit up and he put a hand up to his chest, "What?"

Jean smirked. She had caught him already eyeing up Bobby like youthful meat, "He's probably not even eighteen yet, ya perv."

"Oh shut up, I'm just jealous I never looked that good in my teens. I looked like I was beaten with the awkward stick!"

She laughed, "We all did."

Scott plopped down next to them, cracking open a can of beer. He had learned to enjoy cheap beer that tasted like piss after a hard day's work with Victor in Arizona.

"See, now _that's a man_!" Hank's eyelashes curled at Scott.

Jean eyes almost fluttered out of her head, "Oh, _right,_ "

Scott brought the cool can to his lips, taking a sip, unsure of what he just walked in on.

Jean threw her arm around Scott and joked, "I guess our little baby boy has come a long way this past year."

The fizzy liquid caught in Scott's throat, almost choking, " _Little baby boy_?"

"Yeah, look at you!" Hank controlled his amusement, "You were this shy weird quiet guy last year and now you're practically running this place!"

Jean interjected, her tone laced with defense. Clearly, she was still a little stubborn about having to share responsibilities with Scott, "Woah there, we are co-leading this year, Hank. He doesn't have the keys to the camp just yet." She laughed, and Scott finally cracked and joined in.

Their lighthearted banter sounded like murmurs across the fire to Logan. Like clockwork, he always showed up for just long enough to greet everyone. Then he slowly worked his way into the background until he was gone. His eyes narrowed at the three of them and Jean caught his frown from across the flickering flames. She couldn't explain why, but there seemed to be some weird tension between Scott and Logan. She noticed they didn't speak a ton, not that either man was a huge talker, but they clearly avoided each other outside of various projects around camp together. It wasn't as noticeable when camp is in session, but in the juvenility of season and a lack of staff, it stuck in an awkward obvious way. She knew Logan could be a little tough like unworked leather, but something about this was different.

"Oh my gawd, Sugah! This corn is life right now," Marie walked up barefoot in the sand, happily munching on some of the perfectly blackened sweet corn that Remy provided the group. "That man can cook, Ah tell ya!"

"Honey, I am stuffed!" Hank rubbed his belly, a typical animated response.

"Ah heard ya are going off to Washingtin' in the fall. That's so exciting, Jean" Marie finished her corn and threw the spent core into the fire pit where the flames gobbled it up.

Jean's attention was brought back to the group, "Yeah," she forced a smile, not really wanting to think about the end of the summer right as it was beginning.

"Please tell me you're not driving that scrap metal on wheels all the way out there," Hank's eyes cornered the redhead.

"How else would I get out there?"

Hank threw his hands in the air and Marie gave an exasperated moan at the same time.

"Uh, I don't know…there's such thing as an _airplane_!" Hank's sarcasm could be cut with a knife.

Jean violently shook her head, her soft red waves tossing side to side, "Yeah, I don't do planes."

Scott's head perked up, finally seeing something that made this feisty fearless woman afraid.

"Giant hunks of metal are certainly not meant to be in the sky," Jean defended herself, "It's unnatural. I'll stick to my car, thank you very much!"

"Oh, because your car is _so_ much safer. That thing is like a ticking bomb, ready to go off and break down at any minute. Jean, I can't with you," Hank shook his head.

Jean glanced back across the fire and Logan was gone. He hadn't really spoken much to her that night and she contemplated following him. Flashes of last summer flickered in her mind and she could still taste the whiskey kiss on her lips. The thought brought tingles down to her essence. It was an exciting feeling, but it led to her embarrassing flop with Scott and she decided to behave this time and stay put with the group. With having to co-lead this year, she didn't need any reason to look incompetent to anyone. Charles apparently already thinks she needs help.

* * *

The first camp session went smoothly, the younger kids frolicking around the camp like a bunch of sugar bees buzzing around wildly. Scott had the kids repaint the archery boards and plant some flowers. The kids loved getting paint and dirt smeared all around their rosy little cheeks. Scott was patient with them, teaching them how to properly control a paintbrush and how to make perfect little pockets in the dirt to plop little starter flowers into. He enjoyed being back in Michigan, the soil was much more agreeable than the red clay of Arizona. The smell of the summer grass and flowers was much more vibrant up north with the humid air and fertile earth.

He saw the others grow weary towards the end of the first session, coming to breakfast like zombies and guzzling all the caffeine their bellies could fill. He still was feeling like it was the first day. He woke up every morning and went for a run and showered before the kids were even up. He had a feeling his prior year at Camp Magneto prepared him for the return.

In his downtime, he snuck off to the old cabin in the woods. He wasn't a fan of being idle and found it relaxing to retreat to his quiet sanctuary tucked on the far side of camp, hidden by the woods. He put his mind to rest by putting his hands to work. During one of his escapes to the a-frame, he brought out a broom, axe, and a large garbage bin. It was a little bit of a hassle bringing the items along, but he didn't mind it too much.

He began clearing out the inside, throwing out the old couch and tearing out the thin flimsy wooden cabinets. He chopped them up in a wood pile outside, knowing they would make decent firewood at some point. The appliances were actually in decent shape, other than needed to be cleaned up, they didn't look as old as he first thought. He wiped them down until they shined, the teal green metal suggesting they were probably from the seventies. He covered them with a tarp and worked on the rest of the insides on various trips out.

It took a few weeks, but he managed to strip off the peeling wallpaper and tear down the ratty old curtains. He began removing rotted floor boards and broken steps. He remembered there were various oak boards stacked in the barn, looking untouched for years judging by the dust that had gathered on them. They looked like spare parts and he brought them out to the cabin to put in place of the boards he had removed. It was beginning to look decent, at least on the inside. It was a shell with an old table and bookshelf in the middle of the room. It wasn't exactly homey, but it wasn't a dump anymore.

* * *

"Truth or dare?" Jubilee asked the group while snacking on a bag of chips.

It was early July and they were in between camp sessions. A group of them decided to have some drinks, kick back, and play childish games for fun. It was mostly the girls and Hank. They hung out in the muggy farmhouse living room, tunes playing in the background from the local pop rock station on an ancient fm radio.

"Dare!" Hank wiggled his eyebrows at the group, taunting them to give him their best dare.

"Hmm," Jubilee popped another chip in her mouth while thinking.

"Oh, Ah got a good one," Marie rubbed her hands together mischievously as all eyes fell on her, "Put on one of Kitty's sun dresses!"

The girls all burst out in a chatter of laughter, "Oh my God, do it!" Jubilee threw her chip bag on the table in anticipation.

Kitty glanced nervously around the group and looked at Hank. She was warming up to the group pretty nice but still a little bit shy.

Hank stood up stoic, "Bring it on," he looked at Kitty, "To the dressing room!"

Hank and Kitty disappeared up the creaky stairs and the rest of them took the short break to grab a fresh beer, the chorus of tabs popping open filling the room.

"Ahem," Kitty's young voice caught their attention as she came down the stairs, "Presenting, the fabulous Hank McCoy!"

She walked over and cranked the radio just as a high beat jam started to play and Hank strut down the stairs, owning ever step as he powered down to the group in a flowing flowery sun dress. The girls started whistling and whooping.

Hank reached the bottom and did his best Cindy Crawford twirl, "That's _Mr. Fabulous_ to you, bitches!" He twirled again, "Don't hate me cause you 'aint me!"

"Wow, you might have to keep it, it looks _way_ better on you!" Kitty's face twisted in laughter.

Hank plopped down on the couch, apparently not in any rush to change and they started to settle down.

Jubilee wiped a tear from laughing away from the corner of her eye, "Oh my god, just _wow_ , that was a hoot!" She settled back on her spot on the couch, "Okay, Hank, you totally win!"

Hank pursed his lips together, somehow exuding more sass, "Uh-uh, we are _not_ done. I totally earned my turn!"

Jean grinned, "Okay, that's fair, one more," she said sipping her beer.

The crossdresser narrowed his eyes to the group, "Hm, who shall be my victim?" His eyes lit up as they landed on Marie, "Okay, Marie-"

Marie stiffened in her seat, excited and terrified at the same time, "Shoot, Sugah."

"Truth or dare?"

There was a pause as Marie contemplated her answer, "Truth."

There was a moan of responses, clearly, they all wanted another dare. Hank put his hand up to the group, "Truth can be fun too, ladies." He thought quietly for a moment then lowered his voice, "Okay, how many people have you slept with?"

The group held their breath, "Jesus Hank, that's a little personal" Jean chimed in.

"Jean, the grandma prude as usual!" Hank stuck his tongue out at her.

"Ah don't think it's that big of a deal," Marie finally spoke up and everyone else turned their attention to the southern brunette, "Ah think maybe…" she counted in her head, "Four."

"Woah!" Jean let a laugh slip between her lips.

The corner of Jubilee's mouth twisted, "Four isn't bad. Do you think that is a lot, Jean?"

Jean's face turned ten shades of red before she could respond.

"I am only on two, but four is reasonable," Hank gave his own number unsolicited.

"Two too!" Jubilee threw her hand up and high-fived Hank.

"Okay, that's enough with a minor in the group," Jean sat up in her 'party over' voice.

Kitty shrugged, "It's okay," she sipped her can of cherry coke, too young to partake in the alcohol.

"Stop being so Mother Mary, Virgin Theresa," Hank complained.

Jean's head whipped around, "First of all, you got those reversed."

"Are you a virgin, Sugah?" Marie's voice floated above the rest.

Jean felt her pulse race through her body a thousand times, "No, of course not." She lied.

"Ah didn't think so, but ya never know!"

"So, when did you lose your virginity?" Hank focused his attention back on Marie and Jubilee.

"Probably about nineteen," Jubilee's eyes wandered off to a memory, "It was so bad!" She began to laugh, "It was the summer after high school in the marching band van on a summer retreat."

Jean retreated to the kitchen, dodging anymore sex questions but kept her ear open, listening to them banter on.

"Yeah but I remember feeling powerful afterwards!" Jubilee's voice went on, "The sex itself was like shit, but man I felt like _the shit_."

Jean leaned against the kitchen counter spinning a strand of amber hair between her thin fingers. She hadn't given dating much time or thought while focusing on her studies during the year. She had her flirty moments here and there, and guys were always making advances, but she never really felt like it was worth her time. The fact that she was a virgin felt like it put a big sticker on her head, like 'look at me, I'm a total loser'. She didn't really feel it was anyone else's business who she slept with or when. But maybe that's why she felt so childish at times, like a baby in a grown-up world.

The screen door interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see Scott coming through, he was sort of a mess with his dirty hands and dusty hair. He had been disappearing at night occasionally. She assumed he was working on some stuff around the camp, but she had so many other things she was juggling this summer, she didn't have time to prod.

"Hey," he looked up, as if being a deer caught in headlights. Clearly, he didn't expect anyone to be standing in the kitchen while he snuck in.

"Hi," Jean wasn't really up for talking or dragging Scott into this whole number of sexual partners conversation. He didn't seem up for chitchat either and she was thankful for it.

"I was just headed up to bed," Scott stood there a little uneasy looking, clearly not looking to discuss what he did tonight, and he was avoiding asking her the same question.

"Same, see you in the morning," Jean smiled. There were parts of Scott that were still a mystery sometimes, but he wasn't as invasive as her other friends and times like this, she appreciated him.

* * *

Bobby and Kitty were finishing up lunch when Remy approached them about needing help. There was a leak from one of the sinks and Remy was determined he could fix it, claiming he'd done some light plumbing work in the past. He asked if they could head out and find a wrench and some bolts from the maintenance barn while he began to prepare dinner. The two happily agreed, always excited to find an excuse to explore more of the camp. Their junior staffers roles typically kept them confined to a few of the same areas.

"Is this your first time working at a camp?" Bobby asked Kitty as they were well into the woods on their mission.

"Yeah, I love it!" Kitty's typical buoyant and upbeat attitude shining through.

Bobby kicked a rock and watched it skitter across the path in front of them, "Is there anything you don't love?"

Kitty's medium brown sugar-coated hair flipped over her shoulder as she turned to him while keeping their pace, "What does that mean?"

Bobby kicked the small stone again as they caught up with it, "Nothing bad," his lips cracked a smile, "You're just enthusiastic about _everything._ "

"Not everything."

"Yeah?"

Kitty sighed, "I hate my sister."

Bobby erupted with laughter, "Wow, what a horrible person you are. Relax, no one really likes their siblings all the time. I wouldn't count that against you."

"Yeah but she's like extra awful."

"How so?"

Kitty shrugged, "She's just fake and my whole family buys into it. She took off to Chicago for a big office building job and they all think she's the coolest thing since sliced bread."

Bobby swatted at a mosquito, "That doesn't sound so bad?"

"No, it doesn't. I can't explain it, but she's kinda mean to me. Always teased me growing up. She's like five years older than me, so I was always in her shadow in high school. And _of course,_ she was the cheerleader prom queen type," Kitty's eyes rolled.

"And I take it you're not?"

"No!" Kitty shrieked, "I mean, I have some friends and stuff. But I am my own person. I have my own interests. She calls me 'Shadowcat' to get under my skin, I am no one's shadow."

"But she's in Chicago, right? So, you don't have to see her a ton."

"Yeah, but it's a couple of hours away. She comes home way too often for my own liking and it's usually to brag about something."

"She sounds like a total bore," Bobby looked over at Kitty and that got a laugh out of her.

"Are we going the right way?" Kitty paused and looked around, "I don't see a barn and we've been walking for like fifteen minutes," she looked down at the black sports watch wrapped around her wrist.

Bobby scratched his head, "That long already? Uh…"

"Did Remy say left at the first trail, or second…or were we supposed to go right?" Kitty was normally pretty well balanced on her directions but the trails in the woods twisted in knots through the trees, everything blending and looking the same.

They both looked around, now second guessing themselves.

"Truthfully, I don't really understand what he says half the time," Kitty laughed.

An echoed pounding caught their attention in the distance.

"What's that?" Kitty's nervous eyes fluttered around.

"Sounds like a hammer. I bet we are getting close, let's keep going."

They continued down the path further, the intermittent pounding becoming louder until they came to the edge of the path that led to an old beat up looking cabin. There were piles of wood in the outside with various piles of debris.

"Is this it?" Kitty's face twisted into confusion, "I thought it was a barn?"

They looked at each other, both unsure if they were in the right spot. The door was wide open, and they could hear footsteps from inside coming closer. Scott walked out onto the small porch and the color drained from his face.

"Oh man, hey Scott!" Bobby started to walk up, and Scott quickly walked down to meet them, blocking the view from inside the building, "Remy needs some tools for the kitchen." He tried to peer past Scott, but the man's broad frame seemed to be intentionally trying to keep them from coming closer. "Man, why do you guys call the maintenance building a barn? This is the lousiest barn I've ever seen."

Bobby and Kitty both giggled.

"It's not the barn," Scott's typical steady composure seemed rushed.

"Oh, then what's all this?" Kitty's eyebrows narrowed quizzically at the new discovery.

"Just a small project," he kept his answers short, hoping the two wouldn't think much of it being new to camp with their limited understanding of how everything worked, "You actually shouldn't be all the way out this far into the woods, you must have taken a wrong turn."

Kitty grinned and glanced over at Bobby, "See, I told you! I thought we were walking way too far."

"Alright, let me show you were the barn is and I'll take care of what Remy needs," Scott ushered them back down the path they came down.

* * *

Summer continued with its usual enthusiasm, exhausting their energy with each round of camp and sun kissing all the campers with their usual mid-summer glow. Jean and Scott ran the summer pretty seamlessly together, adding in the camp projects with the campers was a huge hit. The kids loved having some new activities and Jean welcomed them as a distraction. Their truth or dare night had been eating away at the back of her mind for a couple weeks.

She hated how insecure she could feel at times. It pulled at her harder than ever about being a virgin. Perhaps it was finally time to take the plunge and get the damn thing over with. She knew of only one person who would be a potential candidate willingly. She had a wild idea simmer in her mind and it finally boiled over to the top.

One night that she was free of staffing duties, she slinked off to the farmhouse after dinner. She took her time showering and pulling out a makeup bag she packed for the first time in months. She fumbled with the mascara application brush and applied a black liquid coat to her thick lashes. She applied a little blush and finished with a pucker of Chapstick on her soft lips.

Jean rummaged through her bag full of t-shirts, tank tops, and ripped shorts. She didn't exactly plan on bringing anything _sexy_ to wear at camp, but she also didn't really own anything of that sort. She settled on a black lowcut tank and her shortest pair of faded jean short cut offs. She threw on her favorite navy sneakers and snuck out the back, making sure not to be seen.

 _Am I crazy?_

Her mind raced back and forth as she snuck through the trees, her attention on high alert for anyone nearby. The blackness of night concealed her as she crept down the path, almost talking herself out of her plan a few times.

Chops of wood being split by sharp metal echoed through the trees nearby. She hesitated as she approached the lone cabin on the far side of the camp. Her heart raced, knowing Logan was outside. She was hoping he would be inside, so she could change her mind at any instant before knocking on his door.

She arrived at the edge of the intimate clearing outside of his cabin, stopped just short of being seen and watched the man chopping wood. His back to her and she felt her heart do somersaults as she silently observed the shirtless man, his muscles flexing under his skin with each swing of the axe.

He paused and wiped his brow. She sucked in her breath trying to remain still, suddenly feeling aware that she was standing there unsure if she should say something or sneak off.

"Are you just gonna stand there watching all night?" He turned, and his dark brown eyes met hers immediately. _Shit._

She bit her lower lip, "Logan," she fumbled for her words, embarrassed she was caught. He had an uncanny way of knowing when she was sneaking around, "I was just going, well I just finished dinner…I didn't mean to-"

His skin was damp with sweat and she walked forward out of the trees. She felt her silly crush crash down on her like it did every summer.

"You're cute when you get caught," he grinned and set the axe down on the tree next to her. "Come by for another one of those drinks?" he turned and winked at her.

The heat spread over her cheeks, "Ah, well…" she hesitated and sucked in a deep breath, "I mean, if you are offering." Apparently, she was more dedicated to this plan than she thought, the adrenaline pushed her forward. She surprised herself.

Logan raised a brow clearly not expecting her to follow through.

Jean shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice was jittery, "Oh, shut up. Are you going to invite me in or what?"

He wiped his hands off on his jeans and gave in, "Sure," he turned and made his way up the few steps and into the front door. Jean took the invitation, following him in like a puppy. "I've got to quick shower, but I'll be just a minute," She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but it was a fun thrill, like juggling a jar of bees.

He motioned to the kitchen telling her to help herself and retreated to the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on and her skin burned thinking about the naked man in the other room. She kicked off her sneakers at the front door and turned to the small kitchenet, focusing her attention on pouring a small glass of whiskey. She wasn't sure if he owned anything else but fumbling through his cabin felt invasive, so she stuck to their familiar drink, welcoming the liquid courage.

She gulped down half a glass and breathed through the burn, "What am I doing?" She spoke to herself in a whisper, pacing the kitchen floor.

 _Should I leave?_

 _No._

 _Yes._

 _Maybe._

 _Shut up Jean, and act like a freaking adult!_

Her thought was interrupted by Logan emerging from the bathroom, steam pouring out from behind him. He had a pair of dark gray sweatpants, his top half bare bronzed taught skin. The moisture clumped his hair and small droplets rolled down to his chest and disappeared in to the thick course hair.

"Everything okay?" his deep voice snapped her back into the moment.

She nodded and grabbed the whiskey bottle again, pouring them each a half glass, "Yeah," she tried to keep it light and cool. He walked over to her in the small open kitchen, standing a few feet apart. His lip twitched, and she felt him rake her skin with his dark eyes. Her chest heaved as she filled her lungs and turned to hand him a glass.

Their fingers brushed as he grabbed the glass. Her nerve endings tingled where they lightly touched in her fingertips. He took a long swig and put the empty glass on the counter forcefully. It made her jump and she let out a nervous burst of giggles, like a bubbling fountain.

"What are you doing here?" He voice was low and the heat from his skin blanketed her.

Jean stepped forward, looking up into his dark swirling eyes, like a robust blend of black coffee. She swallowed and placed her hand on his forearm that was still clutching his glass. She saw his jaw tighten. She decided to cut to the chase, "I want you."

He turned his head away, "Jean," clearly, he was restraining himself. "Don't tempt me," his mouth watered. "A man can only be a gentleman for so long."

"Oh, you're a gentleman now?" she quirked a brow at him. Her hand slid up to his bicep, clutching it slightly and pulling herself closer to him, his muscles tensed beneath her touch.

"I thought we settled this last year," his raw voice like grit and sandpaper. He finally looked back down into her face, studying it closely. _Does he notice the makeup?_ One of his large hands lifted to her neck and he stroked the back of it with his thumb, "We can't."

"It's fine," her words were velvety, coaxing him. A wave of confidence washed over her and her own voice lowered in a breathy sultry tone, "I'm not a kid anymore, Logan," she reminded him firmly. "I'm a fucking woman and I want you to treat me like one."

It sent him over the edge. He grabbed her by the waist and plopped her tight bottom down on top of the counter, her lips parted in surprise. He plunged his mouth down on the sweet taste of her neck and he gently raked his teeth over her skin.

"I tried…" he growled against her soft skin, "I fucking tried to be good this summer."

She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the bulge pressing against the fabric and denim between them. The feeling excited her and she combed one hand through the back of his dark scruffy hair, tugging him closer against him. This encouraged him further and he groaned, pulling back to look down at the sweltering beauty pressed against him. Her eyes were dark and needy with desire.

" _Christ_ ," he breathed, and she could feel the heat from their close proximity, it appeared he was barely able to fathom what was happening.

She saw him hesitate for a moment, not wanting to lose him to his senses, she pulled at the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head. She sat there in front of him in her green lacy bra. She heard him suck in a hard breath and he gazed down at her chest like she was his prey. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She'd never felt so exposed in front another person before, in front of a real man like this. His bare chest scorched against hers as he pressed against her, the coarse chest hair like a cherry on top of this man cake.

His mouth sunk down around her perky supple lips, her tongue meeting his and clashing against his mouth in pure lost. His one hand planted behind her neck and the other grabbed her bare side just under her bra, his thumb toying with the edge where the fabric and skin met. She lost herself in the waves of pleasure, giving in to the desire, a soft moan escaped her and slipped between their lips.

" _God Dammit, woman,"_ he breathed heavily.

It took every ounce of him to restrain from grabbing her and carrying her away to his bed.

Suddenly there was a loud knock coming from the front door on the other side of the room. Their heads shot up, instantly sedating them from their desire. Jean scrambled to grab her discarded tank beside her on the countertop, fumbling to find the hem so she could put it back on.

Logan's eyes darted around the room, "Fuck," he growled. "Go in the room." He demanded and quickly escorted her around the counter and into the doorway next to the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

 _Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god._ Jean's thoughts went a million miles per hours. She instantly felt insecure in the blatant openness of the room. _Logan's room._ What had she done? To think if they were caught. _I'm such an idiot!_

She could hear murmurs in the other room, two deep voices but she could hardly concentrate her heart was beating so loud in her ears. She pulled her tank top back over her head. Her green eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. _Shit, my shoes are at the door._ She decided she would go without, it wasn't completely uncommon to be barefoot around camp at times. _At night, all the way out here? Riiiight._ Who was she trying to kid. But she was out of options and ready to get out of the room and as far from the evidence as possible.

She bit her lip anxiously as she slowly opened the window on the far side of the room. Once it was open just enough, she dipped through, dropping down to the ground below and managing to scrape her knee in the process. There appeared to be no one in sight and she took off running like a wild woman in the woods.

She ran for a couple minutes until her lungs felt like they were going to explode. She slowed down and stooped over, her arm propped against a tree trunk, holing up her torso as she caught her breath. Her head perked up as the rhythm in her ears calmed down and she could hear footsteps approaching.

She stiffened up and whirled around, "Sc-ott?" Apparently she hadn't quite replaced the oxygen in her lungs.

It was dark, but the almost full moon gave them plenty of light between the trees to recognize each other. He was wearing an old t-shirt and running shorts. He didn't have his usual baseball hat on and his hair looked disheveled. He was out of breath too.

"Hey," He gave a little wave accompanied by a smile. He must have noticed her wide eyes and wild expression, his voice softened, "Jean?"

She could hear and see him, but all the thoughts drowned out any rational response. _Why did couldn't she enjoy one impulsive fucking moment?_ She was always the one who had a plan, she was coordinated, she took care of everyone else. She wanted to have Logan make love to her, she wanted to be a _woman._ She was sick of being just a girl to everyone around here, and her parents. She was a grown ass woman.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, "Are you okay?"

The tears started rolling down her cheeks, "Yeah," her voice was an emotionless whisper.

"Jesus, what happened?" he came up close to her, apparently, she was a sweaty man magnet tonight.

"I'm fine," She felt the stinging of dirt in her fresh cut on her knee and decided it would be a good enough excuse, lousy and lazy but at least she has an alibi, "I hurt my knee."

Scott crouched down and squinted at her legs in the pale moonlight, "Looks like a decent scratch there, let's get you inside," his words were fragile, not sure if there was more to her story. "Can you walk?"

She nodded and wiped the tear away from her face, "Yeah, I said, I'm fine."

They walked in silence to the farmhouse. _Ah, this feels uncomfortably familiar,_ she thought.

"I've noticed you are a little clumsy at night," he tried to make light of the situation as they approached the porch. She sat on the bench that he brought back to life, a little more well-lit from the light that bugs swarmed underneath in a frenzy.

"One sec," he quietly faded into the blackness of the kitchen door, trying not to wake any potential staffers sleeping inside. The lights were off, and she was appreciative of his discretion. He emerged a couple minutes later with a little tin box full of various first aid supplies.

"This might sting," he ripped open a little packet with his teeth and pulled out an alcohol wipe. He gently brushed it against her skinned knee, removing the dirt and little bits of earth. The smell reminded her of the whiskey still in her gut.

He applied a little bit of ointment on the freshly cleaned raw skin, she noticed how tender he was being with her. His hands were strong but soft as he finished his work with a band-aid.

"Well, Miss Grey, I've seen a lot of boo-boos in my time at this camp, and I am happy to report that I think you will be able to keep your leg," he grinned up at her, still crouching down after cleaning up the kit, "I expect you to have a full recovery."

Her eyes crinkled, and the corner of her lips gave into a smile. He looked proud that he was able to get a reaction out her finally. He got up and sat down on the bench next to her. Her nerves and mind had exhausted her enough for one night, she let her head fall onto his shoulder beside him and she gave out a big sigh.

They sat in the quiet looking out into the darkness for a few minutes. The silence with him was comfortable, not threatening or thick. It was a nice change. He didn't seem to mind and just let her be in her moment.

She finally spoke, "What were you doing out there?"

His chest shook softly, and a small chuckle escaped him, "I was out for a run."

"What's so funny?" she lifted her head and looked up at him.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, this is the second time I've found you stumbling through the woods at night and you always demand to know what _I_ was doing," he seemed genuinely amused. _Yeah, I guess that is a little absurd from his point,_ she admitted to herself.

"All those times, you've been out in the woods alone at night too, ya weirdo," she teased back.

"I guess we are just two weirdos in the dark."

* * *

Jean groaned opening her eyes and throwing the sheet off her. Images of last night penetrated all parts of her brain. _Why had she so willingly thrown herself at Logan?_ Suddenly she felt foolish, reality sobering her idiotic plan. She wrestled with what she felt justified about and where her regret rested. _Sense and sensibility._ She was a woman and didn't want to be treated like a little girl anymore, but did she need to go to the lengths of last night? Was it too forced? What if they hadn't been interrupted? Was she technically not in the wrong? Did she really think that sex would make her more independent? More of a woman? _C'mon, you know better than that._

She shuffled into the shower, taking a glance of her smeared mascara in the mirror before hopping in, _Oh, that's real attractive._ She knew she'd have to deal with Logan at some point but wasn't in a rush to jump on it first thing in the morning. She tried to let the water drown out all of feelings, hoping they would swirl down the train with the soap.

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, careful to make sure her bandage applied by Scott was still intact. She could hear the creek of the door to the room outside of the bathroom. Someone was out there. The last thing she wanted to do was start lying about where she was or have someone throw any ridiculous questions at her. She wrapped the towel tighter around her and took a deep breath. She opened the door and walked out. The room was empty.

She noticed her shoes she ran out without last night were sitting on her bunk. Did Logan sneak in to return them? _God bless him._

She threw the sneakers into the darkness underneath her bunk, unable to look at them. She pulled out a fresh set of clothes and quickly got dressed.

"Hey, Hey," Jubilee entered the room and casually plopped down on her bunk, "God, I am so stuffed from breakfast, did you have any yet?"

Jean was gazing out the window, apparently so lost in thought she barely recognized that anyone had entered the room.

"Yo, everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost," The dark-haired woman waved her arms around exaggerated.

"Oh, no…" Jean trailed off. "Um, just waking up. That's all."

"You missed a super fun bonfire last night," The olive skinned girl sat on the edge of her bed, "Remy was doing these hilarious impressions for the campers, and Marie stumbled over a log while laughing so hard. The kids totally lost it!" She laughed along to the memory, "Speaking of, where were you by the way?"

Jean wasn't prepared to answer "Out." _Fuck, what kind of answer is that?_ "Outside." She clarified. She was a terrible liar.

"Outside?" Jubilee's amused look told her she was expecting some elaboration on that answer.

"Outside with Scott," technically it wasn't a lie. _Shit, what if he was at the bonfire?_

"He was missing too, so it makes sense. What were you guys doing…outside?" She wasn't exactly sure how to ask the question it was so bizarre.

Jean breathed a sigh of relief that somehow her ass backwards lie was panning out.

"Last night we were outside…planning the end of summer party." She tried to believe her own fib, "We are just over the halfway mark, you know. Before you know it, the end of summer is here."

Jubilee's black brows raised, "Uh, okay," she laughed, "Is he some like awesome party planner or something?"

"Nah, I just feel as co-leaders it's something we should probably do together, ya know?"

Jubilee must have bought it because she started browsing through a magazine, apparently bored and checking out of the conversation.

* * *

The rest of the morning was uneventful, _thank god._ Jean had managed to have normal interactions with almost everyone around camp, so far. She hadn't run into Summers or Logan yet, and she couldn't tell if she was relieved or anxious about it. Scott seemed to mind his own business, so she wasn't that concerned with him. He probably already forgot about the whole thing.

It was the last day of the camp session and she wasn't on counseling duty this week. This was typically the week she spent making sure everything for the rest of the summer was lined up and ready to finish strong. She sat quietly in the camp store on the floor behind the counter, always a good hiding spot when there weren't any campers on the grounds. She tried to concentrate on the clipboard in her hands, full of activities for the next few weeks but her thoughts kept spinning and spinning, like a dog chasing its own tail.

The wooden door creaked open and she heard the unmistaken burly steps that followed. She sighed and peered out from behind the counter. Logan stood there as if he knew exactly where to find her.

"Jean," his voice filled the room even though he spoke softly, she stood up and felt uneasy. "Look," he tried to find the words. This was a rare sight, typically he was brash and spoke his mind freely.

She fidgeted with her hands, looking down.

"Look at me," his words more demanding. Her eyes floated up and flashes of the feeling of his mouth on hers invaded her. She stood silently, unsure of what to say.

"You shouldn't have come, we almost got caught. It was kind of dumb," He wasn't wrong, but the words pierced her.

"Logan, there wasn't anything wrong with what we did," she retaliated. Even though she believed there could have been a better time and place for what happened, ultimately there was nothing wrong with two adults sharing a moment, "I'm twenty-three years old."

"And I'm ten years older."

" _So?"_ She began to fire up, her stubborn spirit taking control.

"You're still young," He took blame for why she showed up the night before. "You don't know what you want."

"Yes, I do!" she snapped at him. "I wanted to feel like a woman for the first-time last night! Is that so wrong?"

" _For the first time?"_ He blinked astonished.

She closed her eyes, instantly regretting the words. This isn't the way things were supposed to happen.

" _Christ, Jean, you're a fucking virgin?"_ He repeated.

"Yes, Logan! Yes, I'm a _fucking_ virgin. Everyone says it like a disease. What does it matter?" She threw her arms up in the air.

"Look, kid," there was that word again, _kid._ "Now listen to me, it _does_ matter, whether you think it does or not." Logan ran his hand threw his hair and he took a deep breath, regaining his wits.

"What I am getting at is, I am glad we didn't go through with last night, you deserve better, especially for your first time," he held up his hand, he could tell she was ready to protest. "Now get the idea out of your head that you want to be with a guy like _me_ to be a woman. You already are a real woman _._ "He made himself sound broken and tainted, not good enough for her. She wasn't sure how to feel and stood there quietly. He sensed her feelings, not the total insensitive jerk that everyone thought he was.

"It's because I care about you, I won't let that happen." He sighed, not sure if talking was making it better or worse. He could tell she wasn't accepting it, "You deserve some sweet Romeo asshole for your first time."

All she heard was more confusing words and she wished he would leave. "I get it," she finally spoke, her voice forced. Her swollen green orbs were glassy and full as she fought back large tears. He had just tried to convince her that he was too rough of a guy for her, like she couldn't handle it.

It was maddening.

He let go of her hands and headed for the door. She felt a shift in the world and she knew deep down their flirtatious tightrope had just snapped.


	6. Icy Pops & Paint

It was an achingly hot summer day. The heat and humidity rose together like a devilish pair, melting anyone and anything outside. Jean was exceptionally grateful to be on lifeguard duty for the day, meaning she could enjoy a refreshing dip from the cool lake waters whenever she needed it. She threw on some athletic shorts over her one-piece swim suit, grabbed her whistle, and headed out to the lodge for breakfast.

It was a few days into the Junior High session and a couple of preteens zoomed past her, late for breakfast, as she walked up to the large wooden cabin style lodge building. She pushed through the door to a room full of a hundred and fifty little bodies jabbering on to one another. Jean wasn't counseling this week but overseeing most of the daily activities. Scott requested to counsel this week in the cabin with his regular junior high boys, so she agreed to keep an eye on everything else. It was a nice little throwback to when she would manage the activities on her own in previous years. Leading this summer with Scott wasn't the nightmare she had initially envisioned. They worked together rather well, like a well lubricated machine. Each one doing their part, never overlapping or causing a jam in the gears.

"Bonjour, mon beau amie!" Remy greeted Jean warmly as he set out a fresh tray of bacon.

Jean gave a little wave while steeping her teabag into the hot water that she had filled her mug with, "Good morning!"

"I t'ink you could fry an egg on da' sidewalk it's so hot," he looked down at Jean in her swimsuit and shorts, "Cherie, make sure you don't over heat today."

Jean sipped on the tea. Whether there were piles of snow outside or the mercury inched up to the hundred-degree mark, she always had at least one cup of tea a day, "Don't you worry, I will make sure to sneak in for an icy pop later," she winked and walked down the rows of tables. The morning was always full of raw energy and exciting anticipation of what the day would bring. The lightly swung her red whistle around her finger as she greeted the kids.

She paused in front of Scott's table, he was sitting on the end while his campers all devoured their meals, "Hey, how's it going?" She patted his back in a friendly manner and rest her hand on his shoulder.

They hadn't seen much of each other the past couple of days with Scott staying in the cabin with his campers. Jean stayed in the farmhouse while she wasn't counseling, and the quiet nights were welcomed after nonstop action in the sun all day.

"Good," Scott put down his half full orange juice glass. His plate was clear but judging by the crumbs, he had his usual boring toast, "Just trying to fill these kids up, they are like bottomless pits."

Jean laughed, "Well they are at that age," She noticed a couple of the boys watching them talk and she turned her attention to them, "Are you guys excited for the camping trip coming up in a few days?"

They all nodded fiercely, jelly and little food bits peppered around their lips.

"Th'cott said he was gonna teach us how to catch a real big fish!"

"Yeah, like big whoppers!" Another boy held his hands up.

Jean wrinkled her face with amusement, "Wow, well that will be interesting. I've never seen Scott catch anything bigger than a minnow!"

"Okay, okay, let's get the story straight. I said I was going to teach you guys how to properly bait a hook in order to catch a decent sized fish," Scott laughed and adjusted his ball cap, "There's a little bit of some imaginations going wild…"

"Alright, well hopefully I will see you all down by the lake later," she smiled to the table and kept on walking. Chatting with the campers always was an unexpected surprise, never knowing what they were going to say. She loved seeing them so animated and loving life. She leaned against the back wall, overlooking the main dining hall while finishing her tea.

She glanced up when she heard the main doors at the front of the room open. The brawny distinguishable frame lumbered through and walked over towards the coffee station. She shot her eyes down to her clipboard, not wanting her pleasant mood this morning spoiled by the feral moody man. She read the same line two or three times on the paper until she realized she wasn't being productive.

It was frustrating. Logan barely acknowledged her existence after their last interaction. She had one run in with him in Charles' office, when she was coming in for something and he was leaving. But he brushed past her like he was walking through her. It was hurtful and confusing. Even more frustrating is that she couldn't read him. Was he annoyed with her? Angry? Perhaps hurt too? She never realized how much she had grown to look forward to seeing him every day until he was gone. Until he made himself distant and unavailable. Was this a game? Did he know what he was doing, or simply was she way too invested before? She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the thoughts. Thinking wasn't solving anything other than making it worse.

She opened her eyes and she swore she caught him glancing at her from across the room, he was chatting with Remy by the door. Her heart fluttered for a moment, _maybe he will come around._ His dark eyes met with her again, _yes,_ he was looking. And he held their gaze long enough to make sure she was watching as he turned around and headed out the door coldly. The wooden door banging against the frame behind him.

 _What an ass._

* * *

Scott didn't like to play favorites, but if he had to pick one, hands down it was his junior high session. Most of the kids returned from last year and they were wild with excitement to see Scott as their counselor again. They all stayed at the same table for meals, never wanting to miss a moment with their leader who they looked up to. He looked like a mother hen with little chicks pecking and chirping behind him.

During their camping weekend, Scott fulfilled his promise to teach the boys how to properly fish. He started by teaching them how to put the fishing line on their poles and then attaching the hooks. Only a couple of the boys pricked themselves on the sharp hooks, but nothing that sitting on the logs and sucking the tips of their pierced fingers couldn't fix. To his own surprise, a couple of the boys caught some decent sized trout. They insisted on wanting to eat the fish they caught. Scott was hesitant at first but then agreed, _what better time to get muddy and fry up a fresh fish than out on the lake?_

He dismissed his cabin from dinner with the rest of the group. He grabbed a couple cans of baked beans to cook over the fire, knowing the fish alone wouldn't be enough to fill their bellies. Scott had them gather near their group of tents a little back from the water. He made them collect good sticks and dig a small pit with a shovel. They assembled a ring around the freshly dug up firepit with various stones and large rocks. And together as a team, they were able to concoct a decent fire to sizzle the fish over on a pan they propped up.

He loved watching their faces glow against the fire, their expressions all animated as they chattered, scattered around the flames. They were fully enthralled in the experience and idea that they caught their own fish and were in the process of cooking it over a fire they built. He could hear them retelling the big actions moments of how they caught the fish, and some other boys saying they had some big pulls on their lines too. He could almost physically see the bonds these boys were forming with each other they were so strong, lifelong friendships being formed before his eyes. It brought hope to heart knowing these boys would at least have each other growing up as orphans. He wasn't so lucky.

"Th'cott, do you have kids?" the curly haired boy with a lisp finally spoke above the rest. All twenty eyes peered at him closely, excited for his answer.

"Oh, no!" He shook his head with a grin.

"Then how come you know what to do?" another boy quizzed him. The fish skin popped and sizzled letting off little pockets of steam as it cooked in the night air.

"Um…good question," he shrugged honestly, "I'm not really sure. I guess some things in life just come better than others."

The rowdy faces looked at one another, not really sure what that meant. Scott leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Can I tell you a secret?"

This got their faces to open up and nod in unison, they seemed unable to sit still at the anticipation. Nothing went over well with a group of middle school boys than a good secret.

"I never had any parents either."

It was the first time he'd really told anyone but Charles about his experience. He wasn't found of talking about it, but he felt these boys could find the information of some use. He had a sense they looked up to him for some reason and he respected that responsibility.

"No way!" There was a collective gasp from the little faces.

"Yes way!" He nodded, trying to convince them, "So never let it stop you from doing what you want."

"That is th'o COOL!"

They all erupted with cheers and started drilling him about a million questions, like he held the key to their future. He decided to give them the Disney answers, skipping the street life and hardships, hoping it would be a path they never crossed.

* * *

Scott was cleaning up some of the paint supplies by the barn while the kids headed to dinner. His cabin had just finished applying a fresh coat of paint to the interior of the camp store and it was desperately needed. The kids had dinner and a movie in the field scheduled after, not needing him to be with his cabin until bedtime. Bobby helped keep an eye on his kids while he cleaned up from the afternoon's activities.

He was sorting out the paint cans by color when he heard the popping of twigs beneath footsteps walking up. Jean was carrying a paint can up to the barn, "I saw an extra can laying out and I thought I'd try and catch you before you locked up the barn."

Scott was crotched over on his knees and sat back, resting his hands on his thighs, "Thanks, I was just about to put everything in and close up." He stood, dusting his hands off on his khaki shorts. He picked up a few cans and headed into the barn, Jean closely behind him.

"Gosh, I am shocked you even have a spare moment alone. Those boys are attached to your hip!"

"Yeah, they are good kids," He chuckled and stacked the paint cans in their corner of the barn where they belonged.

Jean went out to grab the last can, wrapping her hands around the thick metal cylinder. She carried it over and handed it to him, he grabbed it by the thin handle and put it on top of the rest of them.

The sun feathered through the boards of the barn, creating a soft glow around them with specs of dust cascading around them. The sun caught her hair and set it on fire. The edges of her tousled summer mane glittering madly. Jean caught him looking at her and she brought her hand up to her face instinctively. However, she must have had some paint on her hand from grabbing the can because she left a white smear on her cheek. The corners of his eyes crinkled, unable to hide his goofy grin from underneath the blue ball cap that chestnut tendrils of his hair poked out from underneath.

"I think you've got paint on your hand," He nodded to her palms which she immediately held up and flipped around. And there it was, a white splotch of paint across her index and middle finger. He threw his head back in a hearty laugh, the wholesome sound filling the rafters. A bird flew out, apparently disturbed by their disruption to its peace.

Her brow raised, "You think that's funny?" She walked over to his shaking frame and she brought her hand up to his face.

"Don't you dare, Jean Grey," he clearly couldn't take her serious with the paint on her face, "Or should I call you Jean _White_?"

Her mouth flew open and she took his playfulness as encouragement, she pressed her fingers against his face despite him trying to dodge her, leaving a fresh inked smudge below his chin. "Now we match!" Her own laughter spilling out of her, looking at her fresh tracks she had placed on his face like a trophy.

He shook his head, "You totally are messing with the wrong person," he grabbed a paintbrush he hadn't washed yet, half dried out but surely had enough paint lingering on it he would be able to get her back. Jean shrieked and couldn't contain her giggles as she realized what he had and started to run. He was quicker than her and blocked her from the doors of the barn. They both breathlessly played a game of cat and mouse. Scott managed to get a small swipe at her arm with the paintbrush, the soft bristles leaving a white streak. She grabbed the end of the paintbrush, the remaining paint squeezing between her fingers. Suddenly, the tables were turned, and she held the power in her paint dripping hand. Scott dropped the brush and started to run for the door, but Jean lunged and jumped on to his back, throwing him off guard. She left a hand smear on his green t-shirt and she clung to him, trying to take him down.

He tried to throw her off without hurting her but they both ultimately ended up tumbling down to the ground, unharmed but breathless and covered in their paint war scars. His hat flew off a few feet away. They laid side by side, their chests heaving, coughing, and laughing as they panted. Jean rolled over on her side, propping her head on her arm, and flashed him a cheeky smile, "Gotcha," she said smugly.

"You've got something on your face," he looked up at her sun kissed freckles peeking out from behind the smudges of white.

She shook her head, her soft red waves flowing with the motion, "You're something else," she grinned and settled back down beside him, clearly neither one of them collectively had enough energy to move for a moment. She let out a small sigh, somehow, he felt her muscles relax beside him despite them laying on the dirt floor.

Small particles settled around them as the small cloud of dust settled back down. He finally propped himself up to a sitting position and she did the same, their legs barely touching.

"How is your knee?" He reached out and ran his thumb over the spot he had bandaged a couple weeks back.

"Better."

They had developed a closeness over the summer. An unspoken feeling that made them both comfortable. Despite her crisscrossed emotions she was trying to work through, she came to realize that Scott was a good steady friend. He was solid, a rock. Maybe he was a better friend than she was at times. Regardless, she was thankful for him and his reliable presence.

His gaze was fixed on her green orbs, she looked away and when she looked back he was still staring, "What?" She laughed anxiously.

Scott swallowed and didn't answer. When she would finally let loose and relax, she was a spark in his life. He felt these candid moments with her were rare, but it was a true glimpse of the soul inside. The Jean who didn't need to plan or know it all, the Jean who could just relax and be herself. She had everything to be successful in life, and she was, but he sensed she didn't know it somehow. Close and meaningful relationships were a newer occurrence in his life, almost unknown a little over a year ago. It felt good to know people, trust them, be comfortable with them.

The sun lit up his features and caught flecks of paint in his hair. She lifted her hand up to run her hand through the side of his hair above his ear, "I got paint in your hair," she giddily bit on her lower lip, "I totally didn't mean to."

" _Sure_ , you didn't," he heaved himself to his feet and extended his hand out, gripping her own slender hand and pulling her up. "Let's get you cleaned up, I'm embarrassed to be seen with you like this," he teased as they walked out of the barn.

She playfully punched his arm in response, "Oh, _shut up_!"

He dug a key out of his pocket, locked the padlock, then turned back to join her for the walk back to the cabins.

"Having fun?" a burly voice walked out from the side of the barn. Jean jumped like a grasshopper shooting to the moon.

"Oh, just Logan," she clutched her chest, "God, you scared me!" She laughed but his expression was cold.

"The barn isn't really a hookup spot, kids," Logan huffed, and the words stung Jean. _Was he suggesting she was sleeping around with Scott, right after their conversation? Did he think she threw herself at all the guys around camp?_ Her expression soured.

Scott sensed the friction and tried to dismiss it, "Just locking up." He tried to avoid the daggers Logan was shooting him through his rock-hard furrowed brow. Whatever Logan thought they were doing, he was wrong, but he enjoyed the feeling of having the upper hand, knowing he was probably squirming on the inside that a guy like Scott Summers could give Jean a genuinely good time without the need to be a total asshole the whole time.

"C'mon, Jean," He flung his arm around her playfully, attempting to restore her good spirits. She took her worried green orbs off Logan and redirected them at Scott, admiring how he didn't quiver at Logan like most of the other staffers. He held his ground, maybe she should take notes.

Scott refused to look back, hoping Logan was fully enjoying the view of them walking together, hips swaying in unison to a soft murmur of Jean's giggles fading down the path.

* * *

It was the last day of the Junior High session and Jean decided to hangout in the camp store. It was common to get some last-minute shoppers, wanting to take back a couple trinkets to show off their adventurous time at camp if their foster parents gave them any spending money. The camp store was an old building that looked like the rest of the cabins. She propped a fan in the window to bring in a cool breeze. She hung out on the stool behind the counter, attempting a crossword from an old newspaper that was laying around. It looked like someone had started it, whoever worked the store last, and she attempted to fill in a couple answers of her own.

The rickety screen door opened and closed as the sound of the tired old rusted metal spring expanding and collapsing filled the room. She could see from behind the curls on the boy and she knew it was one of Scott's campers. He looked up and down by the t-shirts.

"Need help finding anything?" Jean asked, setting down the paper.

"Uh," the boy looked around and then turned to Jean, "Do you have any hat'th?"

"Oh sure, we've got some fun fishing hats," Jean got up and walked around, pulling a beige novelty fishing hat off one of the shelves.

The boy kicked his foot around loosely at his ankles, "Um, not like that...like any ba'theball hat'th?"

Jean put down the hat and put her hands on her hips, "Hm, we did…" her eyes searched an empty shelf, "We might be out."

The boy's shoulders slumped, "Aww, okay."

Jean's heart sunk, hating to see the boy clearly disappointed, "But, I can check in the back area and see if there's anything." She watched his eyes come back to life.

She went into the muggy back room and flipped on the light switch. She rummaged through the last couple of boxes of stock not yet on the shelves for the summer. She felt the stiff rim of a baseball hat brush her fingers and she pulled out a red adult size hat, perhaps a little big for the boy.

"What about this one?" She held it up as she walked back into the front.

"Yeah!" The boy grabbed the hat and placed it on his head, almost swallowing it up, in a few years it might fit, and seemed to make him plenty happy now.

"Do I look like Th'cott?" He looked up at her from underneath the brim and she couldn't recall a time she'd seen a prouder face.

It occurred to her that he was looking for a hat to be like Scott, who was always wearing his old beat up caps. It touched all the spots of her heart, "Yes, you do." She could see that answer made him elated.

She finished ringing him up and the boy opted to skip a bag, wanting to wear his hat right away and the rest of the day. She watched him take off out of the store, running up to another group of boys all with Camp Xavier baseball hats on too. _So that's where all the hats went,_ she grinned and folded her arms across her chest. She watched the group of boys from across the field run up to Scott and the hat party was reunited with their leader.

* * *

Jean stirred in her bunk, awoken by a hush of high pitched giggles. She was in the small backroom of the camper cabin where counselors had a bunk to themselves. It was the final week of camp and she was currently counseling a cabin of high school girls. She squinted and tried to get her eyes focused on the dimly glowing alarm clock plugged in on the wooden nightstand next to her bunk.

2:05 AM

 _Ugh how are these girls still awake?_

She didn't want to be the fun police, but she knew they would be exhausted if they didn't get to bed soon.

"Bobby is super cute," she heard the girls whispering from the other room. She was only a few feet away and was always amused at what they thought she couldn't hear. Clearly, they were up late gossiping about the 'cute' boys.

"He's kinda goofy!" Another girl laughed, and they shushed her, apparently afraid to wake Jean. _Too late,_ she thought to herself.

"What about you, Katie?"

"Hank is my favorite and he's so funny," another round of hushed teasing followed. Jean smirked, if only they knew.

"No way, Scott is the cutest," another voice chimed in.

"Scott is a hottie."

"Scottie the hottie!"

This made Jean squeeze her eyes shut, trying not to give an audible laugh. She noticed when they had activities scheduled with Scott the girls took a little more time to get ready. It all made sense now. She remembered being that age and crushing on the boys in their early twenties, thinking they were super cute. But she had to admit, she could see it. He was adorable with his bronzed skin, boyish brown locks that had butterscotch tones from the sun, and million-dollar smile. But that's all these girls knew, the outside shell of him. Deeper down, Jean knew he had a heart of gold and had quickly become one of her best friends. They didn't have to speak a ton, but they understood each other. Just being near one another, there was a silent bond.

"Alright, ladies – bedtime," Jean raised her voice loud enough, so they could hear her. There was a shuffling of feet and bedding, she could tell they were all surprised she was awake and most likely running over back to their own bunks.

* * *

The teens enjoyed lounging on the beach, playing football in the water, games of chicken, and rowboat races. All the counselors hung out to play lifeguard and make sure none of the teens got too intimate, with all their hormones raging.

Jean and Scott floated in a row boat at the edge of the swimming area, keeping an eye on a group of teens lounging on fun noodles and teasing each other. It was the perfect day to spend on the water, the sun beat down with a vicious agenda and toasted them all like an oven. Jean always wore a red Baywatch style one piece at camp, she felt it wasn't appropriate to be wearing anything that showed too much skin around the kids and teens. Scott typically wore a t-shirt with his swim trunks but today he couldn't take the heat, he lounged shirtless in the small boat. They took turns alternating jumping off the side into the refreshing water every fifteen minutes to cool off and then climb back in.

"Better be careful," Jean smirked as Scott climbed back into the rowboat, water droplets sliding off his skin and evaporating.

He laughed, "Of what?"

"All the girls have been calling you ' _Scottie the Hottie_ '" She smirked at him while holding the paddles, centering the boat to get a better view of the teens.

Scott's pearly smile was exposed between his bewildered lips that parted into a laugh, " _What?_ "

Jean nodded, "Yup!"

"Good lord," He rolled his eyes, "They can enjoy the show today, it's way too freaking hot to be putting on anymore clothing."

A beachball the teens were batting around flew up into the air and began to descend near the boat. Jean leaned out and gave it a good swat back to the group which cheered her on.

"What's your plan after camp? Arizona again?" Jean relaxed back onto the wooden seat, her eyes hidden behind her shades.

Scott shrugged, his thick hair already beginning to dry out, "Probably not. That was all temporary. I guess I've got to see if Charles has another recommendation or start looking for something."

"You mean you don't know?" She frowned.

He shook his head.

"Come to Seattle!" The thought burst out of her.

Scott's eyes twinkled, "And do what?"

The redhead thought for a moment, "Carry my books." They both laughed.

Jean sat up straighter, trying to be more convincing, "No seriously, come with me."

"Jean, it doesn't work like that," he admired her seriousness and desire to remain close.

"C'mon, why not?"

Scott shrugged, "Well first, it's crazy expensive from what I hear, and I don't have a ton of job skills. And mostly, I'm not even cool enough for Seattle."

"Oh whatever, we could be roommates and you're amazing! Scott, seriously you can do anything. I think you would love it! You're like this rugged outdoorsy guy now anyways, you'll totally fit in."

"How about I come visit?" He tried to find an answer they could settle on. He spent the last year stabilizing his life and creating a small savings, it would ruin everything he worked for if he were to go off and blow on a city that is someone else's dream. He needed to focus on finding work that he was qualified for.

She let out a dramatic sigh, "Fine."

* * *

Bobby and Kitty were assigned kitchen duty during the high school session. It would be inappropriate for counselors to be the same age as the campers, so they always made the staffers who were still in school help out in the kitchen and with activities. They didn't mind the change of pace and enjoyed goofing off while helping Remy prep dinners and splashing each other in the sink while washing endless pots and pans.

"Merci, mes amies!" Remy walked over to the corner of the kitchen where Bobby and Kitty were putting away the last of the washed plates from lunch. "Tonight we gon' have dinn'r down at da' fire."

Kitty clapped her hands, "Oh, like a hotdog thing at the beginning of the summer?"

"You mean a _weiner_ roast?" Bobby couldn't help himself.

"Oui." Remy nodded, his long hair hanging out from under his folded bandana on his forehead, "Jus' want'd to let mon friends know dat there won't be much prep toni't, so mebbe you can have more free time dis afternoon. But remember to keep out of da' way of activities."

Kitty nodded, "Remy, can we have some icy pops?"

"Of course, mon amies."

The pair dug through the large freezer to find their favorite summer treats. Typically, Remy would let them sneak a couple here and there, even though they were meant for the campers. They still had two boxes left and one week left of the summer, surely, they wouldn't be missed.

Kitty and Bobby bounced out of the lodge and down the backside of the deck. They became accustomed to hanging out between their assigned duties since they were the two youngest. They sucked on the pops and swatted at mosquitoes just wandering down the trail aimlessly. They came across the maintenance barn and both shared an amused look from their previous adventure.

The barn door was wide open, and they could hear someone tinkering inside. They went in to investigate and found Logan going through some of the wooden drawers that housed various tools and metal bits.

"Hey Log," Kitty's perky voice filled the barn.

Logan raised a brown and quirked his head to the side, "What are you youngins' up to?"

"Just killing some time. We are free for the afternoon but can't hang out near the campers," Bobby propped himself on a rusted metal stool, he dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt floor unconsciously.

"Have you kids been in here at all?" Logan continued to go through the drawers, clearly preoccupied with his task.

Kitty's mouth turned down and she shook her head, looking to Bobby who also shrugged, "No?" She said confused at the question, "I didn't think we were really allowed in here alone…"

"Besides, why would we want to hang out in here?" Bobby gave a sarcastic laugh.

Logan shut the last drawer and put his hands on his hips, eyes surveying the room, "Tools are missing."

"Woah, like someone stole them?" Kitty finished her icy pop with a slurping sound.

Logan took a deep breath, "Yeah, I guess something like that. Know anything about it?"

They shook their heads again.

"Well, what about Scott?" Bobby's tone illuminated like a lightbulb.

"What _about_ Scott?" His stiff words and stone stance made the kids shift uncomfortably.

Bobby dug his shoe deeper into the ground, creating a small pool in the black dust, "Well I dunno, like his project thing in the woods, I saw some tools out there…" his voice trailed off.

"Where?" the burly voice demanded.

Kitty glanced at Bobby nervously, she didn't get the impression that what Scott was doing was a secret or wrong. Last thing she wanted to do was get someone in trouble. Kitty took a few steps towards the door, hoping Bobby would follow.

"Um," Bobby stood up from the stool catching Kitty's cue, "Like down on the other side of the lodge, but way further down…I, forget…we forgot, Kitty I think we forgot to put something away in the kitchen."

The two scurried out like the wicks of a freshly lit firework. Logan wasn't thick enough to see past their jittery lies, but he had all the information he needed.

* * *

Things with Logan didn't sit right with Jean. She knew there would be some stinging awkward air between them for the time being, but lately he just seemed to be a downright asshole to her. She couldn't tell if he was purposefully pushing her away, or really stopped caring. She never really minded the flirty demeanor between them, but now that he seemed to be giving her the cold shoulder, she felt weird and unsure of what happened. Flirting with Logan was fun and now that little thrill was clearly over.

Summer was drawing to an end and she wasn't ready to leave on bad terms. She decided to finally make things right and handle the situation like an adult, with her words and not her body. She asked Jubilee if she could keep an eye on her cabin during the nighttime activity for the evening. She lied and said she needed to print off some papers in the office, but instead she found herself on the doorstep of Logan's cabin.

This time she wasn't dressed up or full of ridiculous makeup. She was just Jean. She smoothed her hands down her torso, drying out her palms that were slightly damp from sweat. She stood there for a few seconds, hesitating. She had spent the brisk walk over pep talking herself to be mature and take care of the situation. Her wrist rose to the door and she gave a light knock, finally mustering up her courage.

She could hear a scurrying of footsteps inside, maybe voices muffled behind the door. She couldn't quite tell but there wasn't an answer.

She knocked again, "Logan?" she called into the thick wooden door, "Are you in there?"

Some more muffled noises and finally she heard the metal lock surrender. Logan looked down on Jean through the screen. He looked as if he had just woken up, his hair untidy and he was standing there shirtless.

His nostrils flared, and his words were short, "Jean, what are you doing here?"

Her throat clenched with a hard swallow, "I'm not here for anything but to figure out what is going on between us."

"Nothing. That's what is going on between us." He started to shut the door and she quickly opened the screen, putting her hand up to block the door from closing. This must have surprised him because he stepped back, the door being flung open a little further from her forceful push.

"Step being such an asshole! I thought we were friends!" She narrowed her dark swirling eyes at him, mouth firmly pressed together.

Logan's expression remained unchanged, a powerful force but she was determined to not step down this time. They locked eyes and the heat radiated between them.

Finally, his eyes relaxed and he gave a sigh, "We are friends," he dug his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants, possibly the same ones she'd felt him pressing against her a few weeks ago, "I just can't have you showing up unannounced all the time. I've got my own shit I am trying to figure out with all this."

She eased up and looked down, "That's fair," she admitted. Her eyes caught part of a red set of high heels that were laying on the floor partially out of view next to the door. It was the same spot she kicked her shoes off when she was last over.

"We are going to be fine. Let's just give it some time, okay?" His words were softer but she could barely hear them.

She looked up at his face and could make out a hint of red on the corner of his mouth. _Is there a woman in there?_

It all made sense, the hushed delayed answering of the door and the half-dressed frayed man in front of her. _Holy shit._ That was her just a few weeks ago on the other side, there was probably a woman stuffed up in his room like she was. Her breath became short and she started backing away slowly. Was she just another one of Logan's toys? How often did he do this? Was she an idiot to think he would really want a girl like her all along when he has some red lipstick, high heeled goddess in his bedroom at his disposal? And she thought her sneakers and Chapstick would get him going.

Logan was saying something, but she really couldn't make out the words in her head, the wires in her brain all misaligned.

"It's all good," she forced out a reply as she reached the edge of the deck, "I got to get back to my cabin…" she turned and practically stumbled down the steps. She heard the large door close behind her and he may or may not have said goodnight, but she couldn't grasp the reality around her.

As soon as she reached the trail she walked like a zombie through the trees, the sun tucked in for the night and the sliver of a moon provided little light, but she was thankful to be hidden in the depths of the darkness. Her body was numb, and she mindlessly walked the trail until she hit the beach She kept walking until the small ripples of the edge of the lake licked her shoes. She kicked off her sneakers and let her body slump down into sand. The water lapped around her shins. Her eyes welled up and a tear rolled down the slope of her cheek.

She was done being used. She was done trying to prove herself. She had solid friendships, she had smarts, and she was brave. It was decided that she would try and use this as a lesson and put the whole virgin thing on ice, nothing good was coming of forcing her sexuality and it only created tension in her relationships. Her sex drive and partners didn't define who she was and shouldn't disrupt her self-esteem. Perhaps everyone was treating her like a child because she kept acting like one. She played the role of having her shit together, but really, she didn't and she was too stubborn until this moment to admit it to herself, even though deep down she knew it everyday.

She decided she was done being the victim and wiped the from her cheek. _Everything will be okay. I will be okay._

* * *

"Scott, I'd like to ask you something," Charles was standing in front of one of the windows in his office, gazing out at the campers who wandered the grounds.

Scott found himself again at the end of summer in the chair across from Charles' desk. He wasn't sure if there would be another opportunity for him this upcoming year but would find out soon enough. Their last meeting a year ago led to his whole life changing for the better.

"Have you been taking tools from the barn?" Charles turned to look down the nose at Scott, the tone of the older man was solemn.

Scott's blue eyes grew in size, surprised by the conversation, "No."

The bald man nodded, and the worn leather seat rumpled under his weight as he took a seat, "There's been a report that there are items missing."

"Sir, I would never steal anything." He understood that he looked like the most likely suspect, a homeless guy hanging around all summer, but he wasn't like that and he was hopefully never having to worry about being homeless again. He decided he would try and find some decent work being able to afford a small rental with his savings. A permanent address opened up a whole new world of opportunity for a person in society.

Scott searched his brain for what he could be talking about and it struck him like lightening, _the cabin._

"Actually, I can explain…" Scott cleared his throat and continued, "I promise, I haven't taken anything. Just _borrowed_ some things."

Charles shifted in his seat, clearly wanting to listen to the whole story.

"There's an old a-frame cabin out on the edge of the property."

"Yes, there is. It was the first building on the property," Charles elaborated on the structure, "It was originally a vacation cottage not included with the farm, but the original family bought it as an addition to their land but never did anything with it. I'm sure they had plans of some sort but they ended up going bankrupt and that's when the land for the camp was decided."

Scott mulled over the information. He'd spent countless hours sweating in the old muggy cabin and occasionally wondered how it came to be.

"But Scott, what does this have to do with the missing tools?"

"When I was in Arizona, I learned how to do some handy work, like repair and remodel stuff for the cabins and buildings at Camp Magneto," Scott looked down at his hands, realizing he had let his small project go on too long without approval. This could be the end of the road for him.

"I really enjoyed it and when I saw the cabin this year, I thought it would be something useful to do. I've been clearing it out and trying to get it in decent shape again." Scott swallowed, "I've been taking some tools out to the cabin and sometimes forget to bring them back right away. I know I should have asked if it was okay first, but I swear I am not stealing anything. None of the tools have left the property and I planned on returning them all by the end of the summer."

A group of chattering teens walking by one of the windows filled the silence.

"I see," The professor didn't sound mad, but it didn't ease the knots that were forming in the pit of Scott's stomach, "And do you think it's possible to fix the place up?"

The young man's face looked up, surprised by the question, "I do," he answered honestly. "I think it's got a really good frame and solid structure. There's definitely some more work to be done, but it's not impossible."

"Do you like the cabin?"

Scott nodded, "Yes."

Charles leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his muddied eyes, "Why, if I may ask?"

Scott glanced out the window, feeling lost in his gaze. He'd never really articulated why he felt so connected to the little plot out in the woods, "It's quiet…peaceful. I can't really say, honestly."

"Well this conversation really puts my heart at ease, son." The endearing term brought Scott's eyes back to the old man's, "I didn't think you'd truly be responsible for the disappearance of these items, but I believe your intentions."

Relief washed over him.

"Truthfully, I've been trying to work out a way to get another full-time staff member for the camp. The finances were manageable, but the living situation wasn't ideal. We need another staff cabin but couldn't find the funds to invest into a whole new one. This project of yours might actually be of use to the camp and solve this conundrum."

"Sir, I could finish fixing it up for you. I could get it in working order within a month or so. You could hire someone and have then in it by early fall possibly," Scott perked up to the idea of turning this into a positive and helping out the camp.

Charles chuckled, "Well, there's an idea. But Scott, I want to extend the offer to you."

Scott became stiff in his seat, "Me?"

"Yes, you've been nothing but dedicated for the better of this camp and this year has been our best one yet with your input. The grounds are looking magnificent and I know your heart is here. I'd like to offer you a full-time staff position and if you fix up the cabin, it will be yours."

His heart shot to the moon.

"Now, I said we didn't have money to invest in building a full cabin, but I can work out some finances to set aside a small budget to help you finish up and get it at least furnished. For your position, I'd like to have you as the Program Manager, a new role I'd like to create."

Scott nodded, and he couldn't conceal his smile, "Absolutely, Sir, I would be honored."

"We can go over the details later, but I can offer you a modest salary, you won't be getting rich by any means," he chuckled, "But your housing expenses and meals would continue to be provided like they are during the summer."

His head was spinning with excitement. He hoped to God he wasn't dreaming and about to wake up in some alley. This whole place felt like a dream and he didn't know what he had done to deserve it all.

* * *

Scott sprang out of the office feeling like he had grown wings and circled the sun. His blue eyes darted across the camp soaking up the hearty lodge, the volleyball sand court, the freshly painted signs, and the quaint cabins peppered into the trees. The brisk breeze off the lake swept through the trees and went through him like water, bringing heavenly scents of the minerals and seaweed. He couldn't believe this place he had grown to love was now his home. He didn't have to worry about leaving, this feeling surpassed any he had felt at the end of last summer, and he was ecstatic then.

He walked back to the farmhouse, trying to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest. He assumed he would probably stay in the big empty farmhouse when the others left until his renovations were complete, but he didn't mind. He was happy to have a bunk, let alone a whole house to himself.

The stairs announced his arrival as he made his way up to the top of the guys room. He could hear the radio on in the girls' room. The last session of camp ended yesterday, and a few people already had to take off right away, going back to prepare returning to school and their lives.

"Jean!" he caught the redhead at the top of the stairs, she had just come out of the bathroom.

"Scott!" She laughed and mimicked his overly enthusiastic greeting to her, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"I'm staying!"

Her mouth parted, "What? Here?"

"God, I can't even tell you what just happened. But I just got hired full-time and I am staying at the camp. Like living here, at the camp!"

"Oh my God! That's crazy amazing!" She jumped up and down barefoot, unable to contain her own excitement, "I can't think of anyone better."

Out of a burst of exaltation he lifted her up and spun her around in the tiny hall, the sun from the bathroom shining through and catching her hair like fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze that deflated his lungs. His own arms wrapped around her quaint torso and they embraced for a moment before he set her down lightly, both of them coming back down to earth.

"Ready for some more good things to come your way?" Jean beamed like a child, brimming with excitement.

"I don't think I can handle anything else." Scott laughed, catching his breath.

"You'll survive," she winked and took his hand, leading him into the girls bunk room which was empty other than Oasis singing Wonderwall through the radio speakers in the background.

"Sit, sit" she motioned to her bunk and he followed her orders. "Close your eyes!"

He listened and sat there shaking his head, "This isn't another gift is it?" He joked.

He felt a smooth flat metal object of decent weight press against his lap and his eyes shot open. He looked down at an Apple laptop sitting on top of his thighs.

"Okay so, I want you to have this, and before you can say no, I won't let you," She grinned.

He looked up at her with an open mouth, "Jean, I can't just accept a computer. You're outrageous!"

"No, no. Listen, I need a new one for school anyways. This is my old one, so it's not like I ran out and bought a new one or anything. I don't need two laptops. I figured you could use it for whatever," She bit at her lower lip, still grinning, "Especially knowing now you're staying at camp, there's practically no service here…so we can email."

He couldn't believe this silly woman was showering him with more gifts. At least this time he could properly thank her in person and the summer will end as it should of last year.

"I don't have anything for you," he sheepishly looked down.

"Are you kidding me?" She sat down next to him, "I had _so_ much fun this summer. I can't tell you the last time I just felt so wholesome, and I have you to thank for that."

"Admit it, I'm a totally awesome co-leader," he teased.

"How about I admit you're a totally awesome friend."

 _Stubborn woman._


	7. Pen Pals

Note from Author- I tried to add the fictionalized email addresses into the story but the doc manager on prevents the email handle from showing. The following exchanges below were intended to be email exchanges.

* * *

DATE: September 2, 3:30pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: Mic check…one, two.

Dear Mr. Program Manager Fancy Pants,

I hope everything is going well at the camp. How's the cabin coming along? I still can't believe you didn't tell me about it all summer! I also think you're nuts for wanting to live in it. I'm excited to see what it looks like next year.

I'm sure the leaves should be changing soon, fall in Michigan is one of my favorites. I spent one of my long weekend breaks staffing a fall retreat, and I remember the big red leaves the size of my palms all over the grounds. New York has a pretty impressive fall, and I'm sure Seattle will impress but nothing beats the magic of Michigan. And before I forget, you've got to get your hands on a fresh apple pie from the farmer's market in town. It's to die for!

I am getting settled here in Seattle just fine. I found a cute little apartment. It used to be an old flour factory that they converted into condos. I've even got a little view of the sound! Well, kinda. If you climb up the fire escape, the rooftop has a view. Oh, and it gets better, I was able to get a job a coffee shop a few blocks away. They are willing to work with my class schedule. The first couple of days were a little crazy, why are there so many different types of coffee roasts and beans? Ack!

Also, my degree program changed. My parents made some phone calls (read: donated enough money) and suddenly I was accepted into the doctorate program for psychology *insert eye roll* I was going to decline but realized I can probably have more flexibility with an over the top psychology degree than a master's in social work. I've only been in class for two weeks and so far, everyone seems cool. A little competitive but that goes with the territory.

Hope the laptop has been treating you well,

J

* * *

DATE: September 8, 10:18 pm

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: Coffee Confusion

Dear (soon to be) Dr. Jean Grey,

Congrats on the new program!

More importantly, did I read that right? _YOU_ are working at a coffee shop? How much did you lie to get them to hire you? You hate coffee. Joking. Well, about the lying part.

Things here are going. Sorry for the delayed response. The office was the only place with internet and I had to pick up and install some new wifi routers around the camp – we are now connected to the world wide web. Big changes here!

I am trying to work on the cabin in my spare time as much as possible with the days still somewhat long. I finished all the repairs on the floors and replaced a couple treads (the top part of a stair step). I am refinishing the floors this weekend, I am thinking of keeping them their natural oak color. There's a lot of character and knots in the grain that I like. Once that's finished I am hoping to replace the windows and then she'll be ready for a new coat of paint.

Charles and I are working on defining my new role. I will be taking over some of his duties, mostly the program planning, running camp week to week or handling retreats, so he can slow down and focus on finances, grants, and whatever else he does in the office behind the curtain.

The farmhouse is quiet with everyone gone. I can't tell if I love or hate it, haha.

Be careful on the fire escape,

Scott

* * *

DATE: September 24, 8:15pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

Subject: R.I.P.

Well it finally happened…my car has officially been laid to rest. Bless its sweet soul.

City life just wasn't meant to be. I was driving to school one morning and it stalled at a light. Which was super embarrassing with a million horns honking at me…to be fair, I was blocking the intersection. I was able to call a tow truck and get it to a repair shop. I missed class just to find out it needed basically a new…everything! Sheesh!

I managed to get $250 for it, probably will just be junked for parts or something awful I don't want to think about. If anything I was able to use the money to pay the tow truck bill, treat myself to a pity dinner, and buy a bike.

 _That's right_ , I am now one of those annoying city bikers. Actually, it's been working out pretty well. I walk to work which is only about ten minutes and I can bike to campus in about twenty minutes. So far, I haven't really left the city, so I think I am going to manage okay without a car.

Other than that, everything else is going pretty well….it rains…a lot. Oh, I managed to make a new friend! Her name is Wanda, but everyone calls her Scarlet. She works at the coffee shop and seems pretty cool.

That's all for now,

J

* * *

DATE: September 26, 12:47pm

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: Re: R.I.P.

Sorry to hear about your loss, I'm actually surprised that car made it out there in one piece. But that's great to hear about your new bike and friend.

I got one of those apple pies – wow. I could probably eat one every day. I'm actually eating a piece right now for lunch, don't tell anyone.

We had a couple retreats this month, they went pretty well. One was a corporate company doing some team building stuff and the other was a church youth group. It's different than working with the kids in the summer, but I still enjoy it.

Finished the floors in the cabin, I think they turned out decent for my first refinish. I propped open the door with a stool to let the polyurethane dry and I came back and found little footprints across the top sheen…had to redo a little section. Darn squirrels. I started building some new cabinets from some old pine I found on clearance at the hardware store. I might actually have some sort of a kitchen in order before the winter.

Hope all is well in the big city,

Scott

* * *

Scott was standing in the aisle of the hardware store, his most frequented spot lately. It was placed snuggly in the little sleepy town about twenty minutes from the camp. The town itself was a tiny blimp on the map consisting of a grocery store, post office, a small car repair shop, hardware store, a two-movie showing theater, and an old video rental shack. He became a regular to the locals as he hopped in and out of town once or twice a week. It was easy to recognize a new familiar face pretty quick in a small sleepy town.

Logan agreed to let him borrow the pickup when it wasn't in use, it acted more as the community camp vehicle. Remy also occasionally used it for his big shopping hauls, which usually was a forty-five-minute drive to Kalamazoo, the next largest town with a warehouse style store he could get everything he needed in bulk. Things with Logan in general seemed to cool down without a redheaded antagonist bouncing around camp.

"Excuse me, do you sell any kits to open a car door?"

Scott was looking over some paint colors and he looked up to see a woman standing a few feet away. He realized she was speaking to him.

"Oh, sorry I don't work here," he examined the tall blonde. She looked out of place with her black high heels and blazer jacket.

"Oh! Gosh, sorry. I thought you did," she laughed nervously, "I didn't see anyone at the counter and just assumed…"

"No problem. Dave who runs the place might be in the back," he noticed she looked a little flustered, "Can I help with anything maybe?"

She shifted the weight of her black leather purse, securing it more firming on her shoulder, "Well, I was across the street at the grocery store and locked my keys in the car."

"I can take a look, if you don't mind?" Scott started towards the front of the store and she followed him.

"That would be great," her heels clicked along and the little bell above the door rang as they walked out together.

"This one," she brought him over to a red shiny Volvo, perfectly matched to her lipstick. Sure enough the keys were resting on the seat through the glass, "Ugh, they must have not made it into my purse when I got out. I feel like an idiot."

Scott walked around the car examining it carefully, cupping his hands against the glass to get a good look into the interior, "I'm sure it happens all the time, no need to beat yourself up. Do you happen to have a spare key anywhere?"

"I do," she gave a long-defeated sigh, "…back in _Chicago_. I'm just in town for a few days visiting family."

Scott crinkled his nose, "Yikes, that doesn't help," It made sense that a woman like that wasn't a local, "Tell you what, I can give you a ride to where ever you are staying. At least then you can sort out a locksmith and not be stranded into town."

Her eyes lit up, "If you have the time, that would be perfect. I'm just about ten minutes up by Corey Lake."

He happily agreed, it was the least he could do for the stranded traveler. She looked like the type of person that would hail a cab at an instant. But taxis didn't exist out in the rural quaint farm town, at least he'd never seen one. They walked a few spots down to the pick and helped her into the cab. He shut the door behind her and walked over to the driver's side.

He pushed the shifter into drive and the truck growled alive. "I'm Scott," he said as they started down the road.

She looked over at the man behind the steering wheel, "Oh, right. Emma."

"So, Emma," he made small talk on his unexpected journey, "Did you get everything you needed at the store? I can make a stop if you want."

The blonde let out a small sarcastic laugh, "Oh no, thank you. I was trying to find some wine to tolerate the weekend with family, but I forgot the little podunk grocery store doesn't sell alcohol."

"The gas station on the other side of town has some beer, but I don't think I've ever seen wine. But I've also never really looked."

"Oh, it's fine, I have the car situation to take care of now anyways," she huffed and gazed out the window at the tall grass that shot up at the edge of the road, "So do you live out here? Can't say I've ever seen you before," she shifted and looked at him, "I feel like I would remember a face like yours."

 _Is she hitting on me?_

"No," he said instinctively but then realized, _yes this is technically now his home_. "Well actually yes, but it's a newer situation. Just moved here, I suppose," he paused, "Are you from around here? It sounded like perhaps you lived in Chicago?"

"Sadly yes, I grew up here."

That made sense if she was visiting family, _duh._

She pointed out the street he needed to turn down, leading him down a few more streets and then they pulled up to a split-level ranch located on a large partially wooded lot. He pulled into the driveway and threw the truck into park. He got out and went around to help her down, she looked more suited for the Volvo than the dingy pickup.

"Well Scott, thanks for the ride," She took his hand and flashed him a smile, her icy blue eyes meeting his, "Did you want to stay for dinner?"

He shook his head, shutting the door behind her, "Oh thank you, but I should be getting back."

The door to the front of the house swung open, "Emma! We're all waiting for you, what the heck?!"

The familiar voice caught his attention and Scott turned to see Kitty barging up the long cracked driveway with her hands on her hips.

"Scott?" She halted a few feet from them.

"Hi Kitty…" he looked between the two women suddenly confused.

"You know _her?"_ Kitty's tone was in shock.

"You know him?" Emma said a little surprised.

"I have no idea what is going on," Scott's brow quirked.

"Scott works at the camp I worked at this summer," Kitty crossed her arms.

Emma tilted her head back, "Aaah. Well that makes sense. I had a little trouble with my car and I was kind enough to run into this fine gentleman to help me."

"We literally just met, this is all really random," Scott explained to Kitty, "So how do you know…each other?" A puzzle piece was still missing in his mind.

"Sisters," Emma replied.

" _Half-_ sisters," Kitty corrected, which got an eye roll out of Emma, "We have different dads, last names, personalities…"

"He gets the point, Shadowcat." Emma seemed impatient with her little sister. Clearly, they weren't the closest of siblings but that was none of his business.

What were the chances. Scott knew that Kitty was a local kid, went to the Three Rivers High School but hadn't any idea about her home life or where she actually lived.

"Well, Kitty it was good to see you, I should probably head back now and sounds like everyone is waiting inside for you girls."

* * *

Jean walked down the damp city sidewalk. Her legs were exhausted after an eight-hour shift at the coffee shop. It was her night to close up, the sign on the window said they were open until 8pm but by the time everything was cleaned up and prepped for the next morning, the employees walked out about an hour later.

She fumbled for her little set of keys as she stepped out of the drizzle and into the small cozy lobby. She saw a package with her name laying under the little row of mailboxes in the wall. She grabbed it and headed up the stairs to the fourth floor. Life in Seattle was good, not great or terrible. It was exciting to be on her own for the first time, void of dorms and feeling more like a true twenty four year old. Her roots slowly started to grow, she had a couple of favorite spots she liked to eat, one of them being a good hole in the wall Chinese restaurant. You know you're starting to feel settled when you have a favorite Chinese place to help carry you through nights you don't want to cook.

She threw her canvas bag down underneath the coat rack by the front door and dropped her keys on the counter while kicking off her black tennis shoes. The stove clicked as it ignited a small flame which she set a kettle of hot water on top of. She set the small box down on the coffee table and went into the tiny bedroom. She stripped out of her damp black work attire, pulling her hair out of its messy bun, and found a dry set of comfy clothing.

Within a few minutes the teapot was whistling in the other room. She picked out her favorite decaf tea blend and poured herself a fresh cup, the aroma of lavender and mint filling up the tiny flat. She plopped down on her teal sofa, a prized resale shop finds of hers. She picked up the package and studied it carefully. The return address was the same address as camp. It perked her interest, she hadn't received many deliveries other than some odds and ends she'd ordered for her apartment online.

The box was about the size of a toaster, not overly big but it was feather light. She carefully ripped at the brown packing tape and unfolded the flaps in her lap. Her face lit up when she discovered it was full of an assortment of large vibrant red and orange leaves. There was a little note on top.

"A little bit of Michigan for you.

-Scott"

She couldn't believe it, her mouth hung open in a wild smile. She dug her hands into the box, feeling the leaves flow through her fingers. She leaned over and inhaled deeply. The earthy smell brought back images of the tall oaks and thick maples in the forests of Michigan. She amused herself thinking of her loyal friend out in the woods picking out the best leaves to stuff into the box. Her heart felt as if it were going to burst from the thoughtful package.

It was absolutely the best gift she had ever received. She grabbed her laptop.

* * *

DATE: October 16, 9:36pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: THANK YOU

Scott!

I just got my package – how/why are you so amazing?!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, x million. I don't deserve you.

Thank you for making my day,

J

* * *

DATE: October 17, 9:15am

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: Your Welcome

Glad you got your surprise. I was stuffing the scarecrows with raked up leaves for the annual fall festival and thought of you. Besides, with all the gifts you keep on throwing at me, It's the least I could do :)

* * *

Each year Camp Xavier hosted a small fall festival weekend that was open to the public the last week of October. They mad a little mock pumpkin patch in front of the main lodge where kids could pick out their orange plump prizes and then carve them right at the carving station. They put on a small haunted woods trail where local volunteers and high school kids dressed up and jumped out at anyone willing to enter. They had apple bobbing down by the beach and a warm campfire with cider to warm up at. It was truly a magical feeling as people walked around in thick sweaters holding their mugs of coffee and cider.

Scott was talking with Mrs. Williams, an older woman he met in town on one of his trips. She was the one who made the melt in your mouth apple pies. Scott had convinced her to bake some pies and sell them at the fall fest. They were sold by the slice or people could purchase and take home a whole pie. It was a huge hit and he was happy to see her hard work rewarded. Everyone went home with a belly and bag full of pie.

"How about you come repair my screen door in exchange for a pie?" The old woman spoke warmly. Lose curls and wisps slipped out of her neat gray bun. She truly looked like the quintessential grandma type who should be on the cover of a syrup bottle or cake mix box.

"Mrs. Williams, you don't have to do that," he smiled at her. The scent of warm pies lingered at the stand set up in front of the main office teased Scott as he helped her pack up for the evening, "I will be happy to come by and take care of that on my next free day."

"Oh, look at you!" Her eyes twinkled, "You're a skinny young thing. You need to be fattened up."

Scott laughed, "Well, if you insist, I won't push a no on those pies!" The whole small-town life depicted in cheesy movies was real to an extent. It was eerie how quickly life changes and people adjust. Scott had only been at the camp since May and already it felt like he was there his whole life.

He helped finish packing up her little car. There wasn't much to do since she just sold her last pie as she was getting ready to leave. Scott watched the last few people of the day head to their cars, tuckered out from all the excitement. Charles headed in for the night and Logan was cleaning up the pumpkin carving station. He even had a chance to see Kitty earlier in the day, she stopped by to volunteer for the weekend, always entertained to help with any task.

His legs were heavy with tiredness. It's amazing how quickly a day can pass by and without realizing it, he was on his feet for a good portion of the day since dawn. He walked into the empty farmhouse and instinctively grabbed a beer out of the kitchen. He popped to top off with his thumb and grabbed the notepad sitting on the kitchen counter. He studied the scribbled writing on the pad, a timeline he had scribbled out. It was full of repairs and various things he wanted to accomplish on the cabin, each line a task waiting for him.

He sipped the beer and added a couple more notes as he sat at the kitchen table.

 _*DING*_

The laptop on the other side of the table buzzed and the screen came to life. It caught his attention and he looked up to see a new email sitting in his inbox. He smiled and opened it.

DATE: October 28, 10:14pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: Gobble Gobble

Hey, I've been thinking …do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?

I would love it if you came out and visited me. I think it would be super fun, I can show you my new place and you can get out of the Midwest for a minute.

It's probably a crazy thought…

J

Scott hadn't thought about the holidays at all. They were typically a time of year that he wasn't particularly fond of and hoped it passed quickly, like a bad stomach ache. He leaned back in the chair, thinking of the silly woman on the other end of the cables and virtual wires that connected them each at the fingertips. His eyes fluttered down to the pad of paper. He had accomplished more than he thought he would by now. Although he originally planned to be in the cabin by early December, he realized quickly into his remodel that the goal was a little too ambitious. Between taking on his new role, learning his responsibilities, and doing all the repairs himself, it wasn't feasible, but he readjusted his goals to be ready to move in by sometime next summer. _Maybe he did have time for a visit?_

He popped open the calendar on the computer, they were trying to be more digital with their files and organization since he started. It wasn't something he was familiar with but he learned with the new laptop with some online searches that it was a lot more resourceful and freed up some clerical busy work, so they could focus on more important things at the camp. He saw that the week of Thanksgiving was blocked off,

'NO ACTIVITIES -HOLIDAY WEEK'

He took another sip of beer and thought in the quiet still house. The thought of actually contemplating Jean's invitation was insanity. He mulled on it until he finished his beer. He sat back up and opened up his laptop,

DATE: October 28, 10:48pm

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: You're Crazy

Okay, I'll come out.

-Scott


	8. Pinball

The little buzzer to Jean's apartment came to life and she sprang up off of her sofa. She giddily pressed a button on the old scuffed up intercom box on the wall and walked out to the hall. A minute that felt like an eternity later, Scott turned the corner. Jean ran to the end of the hall with all her might and he had to catch her as they collided. They almost tumbled over.

"I can't believe you're here!" She squealed and squeezed her arms around him. She didn't realize how much she missed his goofy grin under the worn baseball cap. They had spent the last few weeks coordinating emailing back and forth his travel arrangements. It was going to be brief trip consisting of only a few short days, but she was thrilled just to have some comforts of back east here in her far corner of the country.

They entered the apartment and she grabbed his backpack from him, setting it down in the quaint living room. The place was small, but she made it cozy and homey. It was hard to believe she had just moved in a couple months ago. It looked like she belonged in the little urban den her whole life. The living room had a red brick wall and the teal sofa popped out against it. She had a pillow and blanket waiting for him on the couch next to her reclaimed wood coffee table. There was a small TV on a wooden stand across the tiny room and a bohemian lightly frayed rug in the center of the room. The far side of the apartment, which was the living was lined in large industrial looking old black windows. Here kitchen was a little open space right by the front door, with a couple appliances snug between a few white cabinets lining the short wall. Scott hadn't seen her outside of their dusty cabins and farmhouse but somehow it felt exactly like he would have expected. It was her own place and every inch of it felt like her. He knew she must be proud and it was well deserved.

Scott peeked his head into the bedroom, another ancient brick room almost the same size as the small main area with two large black windows and a tall ceiling. She had a full-size bed with a white comforter and pillows that looked like clouds jutting out of the corner on an angle. There was a tiny bathroom tucked off of her bedroom. It was odd to walk through the bedroom to get to the bathroom, but they didn't ask for his input when they remodeled the old factory into loft style apartments.

"So, what do you think?" There was a hint of eagerness for approval in her voice. The whole place was probably about 600 sq. ft total, "I know it's small but it's cute, right?" She was chattering at a hundred miles per hour, excited to show off her little den in the city.

"I like it," a smile fixed on his face as he looked around. His response was short but genuine. He liked seeing hints of Jean around the pillbox apartment. He could tell by her twinkling eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners she was pleased with his reaction.

"And this is your awesome fiver-star bed," she motioned to the couch as if she were debuting a grand painting.

He sunk down on the sofa and it swallowed him up. It would most likely be easier on his bones than the old film farmhouse bunk mattresses, "I think I'll manage alright," there was a playful tone to his voice. In another world prior to his second chance, he'd found himself sleeping on the hard ground and shelter cots. He was always thankful to find a place to lay his head but her colorful sofa definitely was at the top of the list.

"No wait, get up," she walked over to the window and heaved it up with a grunt. It groaned in protest, but she was able to lift it enough to slip through to the fire escape. She turned back towards him, speaking through the gap in the opened window, "Follow me!"

He got up and ducked his head under, pushing himself through the window onto the metal structure. He wondered where the unusually sprite woman had taken off to. She was like a kid mid sugar rush, jibber jabbering on and bouncing around like a ping pong. He looked up and caught a flash of red locks nearing the top of the fire escape already a couple floors up. She disappeared over the brick edge on the top and he followed until he was hoisting himself over the top as well. His eyes adjusted and he realized they were on the rooftop. He saw her on the other side of the roof by the brick lip edge. As he walked over, he would see the lights from the city glowing on her face. It wasn't quite evening yet but the thick clouds made it feel later than it was.

"Look, look!" she practically jumped up and down. Her behavior was raw and unrefined like a squirrel bounding from one tree to could tell the move had impacted her in a positive way. Perhaps she had the control of her own narrative in the damp foreign region of the country.

His icy gaze scanned the horizon. Buildings sprang out of the earth like an urban forest. A few blocks deep there was a view of the Puget Sound like she had described in her emails. It was tucked between another plot of buildings on the other side. The water looked peaceful and unaffected by the city buzzing on the brim of its waters.

"This is my first time on a roof top," he admitted, "Alright, it's pretty cool."

She clapped her hands, "Oh my gosh, I love it. I have been dying to show you! I like to study or enjoy my morning tea on the occasional dry day. Sometimes I even write my emails to you from up here if the WiFi is behaving. The water reminds me of the lake," a small bit of nostalgia stung in her trailing words. She didn't have to tell him she was talking about the lake at Camp Xavier. He knew. He felt the same longing for the lake when he spent his year in Arizona.

And even though she hinted at missing life back in the middle of America, he couldn't help but feel she belonged here. She was taking in the city lights but he couldn't take his eyes off of the beaming redhead in her new environment. It was almost weird to see her outside of the camp. However, he had to admit, like the brick building and twinkling lights of the city as the sun was setting, he thought she fit right in.

"Okay," Jean focused her attention back to her visitor, coming back down to earth, "So I was thinking about plans for tonight. We should stop by the coffee shop and you can see where I spend all my time not in class. Then there's a small group of friends getting together tonight if we want to stop by for Black Wednesday. Technically they are Scarlet's friends but I've hung out with them a few times. They seem cool."

"Black Wednesday?"

Jean shrugged, "Yeah, it's like a drinking holiday. The night before Thanksgiving everyone goes out, letting loose before spending the weekend with family. It seemed more relevant in undergrad, now it's just a fun stupid excuse to get together."

Growing up, Scott sometimes wished for a family, or that he would wake up from a bad dream and there would be a maternal face comforting him. He was amused to think that some people actively tried to avoid these people when sometimes his heart ached for them most.

* * *

Scott and Jean returned to the flat where they took a few minutes to freshen up. Scott had a full day of travel and threw on a deep red flannel over his khaki's he had arrived in. The clouds were rolling in thick and heavy, so Jean put on a thick cozy beige sweater that felt like a hug wearing it. She slipped on her trusty sneakers and locked up behind them.

They poured out onto the sidewalk, walking side by side in the damp pacific air encompassing them. They chatted about his plane ride as they walked down a few blocks to her workplace. They came upon a teal building with mustard yellow trim and doors. The words, "VICTROLA COFFEE SHOP' were plastered above the windows.

"This is it!" She pointed to the building as they approached, "Isn't it cool looking? I knew it was meant to be, the outside of the building is my favorite color."

"Just like your sofa," he grinned.

"Yes! Exactly!"

The little bell clattered against the glass as they walked in and took a seat by the window tucked up against a rustic brick wall. Jean waved over to some people behind the counter. It looked like the type of place where a cool group of friends would hang out on a tv show or where moody songwriters could be found drafting thick love stricken singles.

A dark-haired woman approached them, "Hey Stranger," her voice was thick with a heavy eastern European accent. She was wearing a black dress with plaid leggings; a maroon apron was secured over her outfit. Everyone working appeared to have the same apron, he assumed it was part of their uniform.

"Scarlet, this is Scott. Scott, Scarlet," They looked at each other knowingly, clearly having heard about one another.

"Is this the _boyfriend_?" Scarlet nodded to Scott.

Scott's eyes snapped over to Jean's nervously and she was every shade of a ripening tomato, "No," she laughed, "Just my friend from back home." She had mentioned Scott to Scarlet a few times but didn't say much else about her love life to her new gal pal, so perhaps she just assumed. _An awkward assumption._

"Whoops!" Scarlet raised her eyebrows and laughed nervously, "Okay, so what can I get you before I made this weirder?" She tapped her pen onto the small pad she was holding.

"I'll take a lavender chai," Jean quickly said, wanting to find a reason for Scarlet to disappear quicker.

Scott's turn, "Black coffee, please."

"The Empire, Triborough, or Streamline espresso blend?" The thick accent rambled back in response.

Scott looked at her as if she were speaking some kind of alien language, "Uh," He had a feeling these were the types of coffee they offered but it sounded more like she rambling off the names of horses in the Derby.

Jean laughed, "Just get him the Triborough blend. He's a simple one."

Scarlett nodded, "Awesome, I'll go get those started."

She disappeared, and Scott turned his attention back to the new city spit-fire, "What did she ask?"

Jean brushed her red full waves behind her shoulder as her face started to return to a normal flesh tone, "We have our own roasts we make here. They smell divine but still can't bring myself to enjoy coffee. The Triborough is probably the best one, well at least that's what the customers seem to order the most. Bold and black. You'd be shocked how picky people get with their coffee out here. Which is good for me, we make pretty good tips surprisingly," She paused her java chatter and took a deep breath with her eyes widening, "I still can't believe you're here." Her face would have split open if it grinned any wider.

"Me too," He studied her face, "You seem really happy here." It was almost unusual to see her so giddy. She had her silly moments at camp but she also took her responsibilities with great pride. She didn't loosen up as easily as some of the other staffers. Was she more chipper all the other months out of the year? His gut told him probably not but he was thankful for whatever in the universe was sparking her spirit.

"Well, I'm happy _you're_ here," she shrugged, "Honestly, it can get a little lonely sometimes."

Her words lingered on his heart, maybe even a little skip in his beat, "You're still getting settled here. I know what it's like to have the days feel like eternities. You've only been here a few months, give it some time. And school has just started. Before you know it, you'll be transformed into this big city girl with a ton of friends and fancy things."

"Ha!" Jean wrinkled her nose, "Never." She perked up, he would have liked to think it was from his encouragement.

Scarlet brought over their hot beverages, steamy wisps swirling up through the mugs that she placed in front of them. "So are we still on for tonight?" Jean gently blew on her freshly brewed tea with frothy milk while looking up at Scarlet.

The dark-haired woman put a hand on her hip. She was all curves from her long dark waves and full lips to her hourglass figure that the apron hugged. Every movement she made felt intentional and somewhat seducing, "There's this awesome bar called 'Shorty's' and its Coney Island themed with good drink specials and pinball. I let some people know, so I'm sure at least a few of them will show up. We are closing up a little early tonight with the holiday, so I think I will be there around eight or nine."

Jean glanced at her watch, _6:47 pm._

"Perfect, we are gonna go grab some grub and we will meet you over there later."

* * *

Over the next couple of hours, they walked around the city streets and stopped for some burgers and fries. It was one of the first meals Scott had eaten out at a restaurant since as far back as he could remember. Typically, he just ate whatever Remy was crafting in the kitchen and he blocked out his dining options before that. The greasy burger with crisp edges and a toasted bun tasted heavenly with the thick cut fries.

It drizzled on and off bringing a brisk chill to the air. Seattle was really living up to its expectation and stereotype. They found themselves walking into the lively bar that had bright colors and neon signs on the outside the sleepy wet street. The inside was just as lively with bodies packed almost up to the door. Loud music beat above the loud cramped crowd.

"Let's check out the back," Jean yelled to Scott. It wasn't a large place, but big enough to have to snake through the crowd in order to find the rest of their group. Jean caught a glimpse of Scarlet and pushed through the bodies with Scott in tow. There was Scarlet with a couple other women and two guys in the space between the pinball machines and jukebox. Scott couldn't hear the introductions over the music, but he caught that the one guy's name was Vince. He appeared to be with Scarlet by the way he had his arm looped around her body, pulling her close like a balloon that he was afraid would float away if he let go. Scarlet was wearing a bare shoulder top and Scott noticed a few tattoos that displayed themselves around her shoulder.

It wasn't his typical environment, but he enjoyed watching the redhead in her new life. It was such a different crowd than the young faces of camp. They had to shout to each other in the circle, but he kept up with the conversation, not being overly talkative but also not being a quiet hermit. He caught himself in conversation with one of the guys and one of the new women in the group, it was easier to narrow in and chat with a few people from the deafening speakers that weren't too far from them.

A collective nostalgic scream was heard across the bar as a well known boy band song came on. Jean and Scarlet joined in and lost themselves to the memories in the music as they dramatically flailed their bodies to the beat. Their drinks sloshed around in the pint glasses as they wobbled around. All the guys in the bar were rolling their eyes and encouraging their wild counterparts.

The song ended, and Jean could feel her hair starting to cling to the edges of her forehead where she worked up a sweat between the dance moves and suffocating body heat in the small bar. She excused herself to the bathroom and weaved her way through the back.

Jean pushed through the swinging red door covered in various stickers to the women's bathroom. She saw the two women who were Scarlet's friends standing in front of the mirror. The one woman with jet black hair, Stephanie, was applying a fresh coat of red liquid to her lips and making satisfying puckering pops. Jean had met them out a couple of times when she met up with Scarlet.

"Oh my god, your boyfriend is adorable," The other woman said while pushing her boobs up from the low-cut shirt she was wearing. She was a short blonde with curly hair that looked crunchy like a pack of uncooked instant noodles.

Jean grabbed a paper towel and dabbed her forehead, joining the other two women, "Oh no, he's not my boyfriend. Just friend."

The two women's eyes grew, and Jean caught them glancing at each other in the reflection of the mirror, "Oh? Does he know that?"

Jean shifted her weight and turned to face them, "What do you mean?"

The raven-haired woman shrugged, "He's been enamored with you all night. Seemed pretty obvious to me. How do you know him?"

Jean bit at her lower lip, she'd caught his gaze from across the little group since they arrived but didn't seem that out of the ordinary or weird. She caught herself giving a double take a few times at him tonight as well, but she chalked it up to the beer influencing her brain.

"I know him from college," she lied. It was honestly just an easy innocent fib. Explaining the whole camp thing buzzed in the dark bathroom with the two acquaintances seemed like a nuisance, "He's in town visiting from back home."

The short blonde smiled, "Well shit, had I known that earlier I would have been all over that can of man meat."

 _Man meat._ Jean smirked at the nicknames he was racking up.

The three of them left the bathroom together and rejoined the group. Scott had two beers in hand and handed one to Jean.

"It looked like you were empty," he leaned in and spoke up in her ear.

She nodded and happily accepted the fresh pour. Her eyes caught with his and she wondered if there was any truth to the nonsense the women were babbling in the bathroom. Suddenly the two other women were on both sides of him, interrupting her thoughts. They both seemed to be firing up some small talk. They were clearly motivated by the new information about him being single and fought for his attention. The blonde was a little more determined and pulled Scott away for a game of pinball.

Jean watched them settle on a machine about ten feet away, just barely able to see them between the moving bodies in the bar. She saw him put in a few quarters and the machine burst into life with flashing lights and graphics. The blonde was just as animated as the machine, clapping when he scored and giving pouty faces when she was losing. They played again and the second time she started becoming a little bolder, resting her hand on his arm and leaning into him as the little ball shot around the inside of the glass. This made Jean's chest panic like the little flippers in the game, bouncing wildly and desperate. _What was the matter with her?_

* * *

"Well that's a wrap for me tonight. I've got to drive to my folks pretty early tomorrow," Scarlet's voice broke attention and brought it back to the group. Jean hadn't noticed the dark haired woman and other guy had left, probably headed home as well. Vince was nibbling on Scarlet's neck. He was always touching her in some way, as if he were intoxicated with her. Jean could tell her friend liked the attention and always ended up going home with him. She was pretty sure they had been dating on and off for the past couple of years based off of the context of how Scarlet talked about him. Or maybe he was just a reliable hookup. She wasn't an expert on these things and never gave it too much thought.

She glanced down at her watch to see the time, but her watch was gone. Her eyes darted around the floor, unable to see in the scuffle of dark shoes.

"Everything okay?" Scarlet looked at Jean's frantic face.

"Yeah," Jean shouted and rubbed her wrist, "Just think I dropped my watch. You guys get home safe, I'll see you at work this weekend."

Vince snaked his arm around Scarlet and the two disappeared in the fading crowd stumbling and giggling.

"Where'd everyone go?" Scott walked back up to their spot, finding only Jean alone finishing her drink. The short blonde was trying to stand as close to possible to his sturdy frame, teetering on her heels.

"Home," Jean set her empty glass on the wooden ledge on the wall, "It's late, we should probably get going too."

The blonde finished her pink vodka drink and nodded in agreement. The three of them made their way to the front of the bar. A few people mingled outside on the sidewalk smoking their cigarettes and deciding which bar they would hop to next. There were a few taxis lined up on the curb, waiting in anticipation to escort the bar patrons home.

"I think we are walking distance. Can I get you a cab?" Scott asked the blonde who looked a little disappointed of his departure but agreed. Scott opened the door of the nearest taxi and gave the driver a $20 bill to get her home. Jean couldn't hear what he was saying to the blonde as she scooted into the cab, but a moment later Scott rejoined her, the yellow taxi pulling out into the road.

" _Scottie the hottie_ ," Jean teased drunkenly as they started down the sidewalk together.

Scott rolled his eyes in response, "Oh stop."

"Someone _likes_ you," she continued to tease as they bumped bodies lightly walking down the wet cement. The sky sputtered out a light drizzle on them in the dark.

"You're annoying." Scott shook his head and playfully shoved her lightly, "And a bad dancer," he changed the conversation.

"Me?" Jean shot him a quizzical look as they turned down another street.

"I saw you busting your moves to those boy band songs."

Jean stopped in the sidewalk and started swaying to a silent beat, "Oh these moves?"

Scott watched the redhead rock her hips back and forth, her humidity induced frizzy red hair swayed along. A laugh built inside of him and finally came out in a deep hearty way that shook his whole body. Seeing her silly side always entertained him.

Jean's exaggerated dance moves caught momentum and she stumbled back. Scott reached out and grabbed her, "Let's get home before anyone sees us, you're an embarrassment." His words were light and playful. He grabbed her hand to steady her and they walked together for a few more blocks.

Jean grabbed on to his arm to balance herself for the walk home, perhaps she had one too many beers and was starting to feel the sidewalk spin. She looked up at him while they walked and studied his features from the dim street lights that protruded out of the pavement. Once again, she was stumbling around in the dark and her trusty friend was right by her side, guiding her home. She was glad to be alone with him again, ditching the clingy blonde. The pinball flipper feeling inside of her went off again.

 _Jealousy._

No, it couldn't be. Could it?

* * *

"Good morning, sleepy head."

Scott squinted as he attempted to open his eyes, the sun hitting him straight in the face and igniting his blue eyes. He adjusted his focus and saw Jean standing over him in her t-shirt and sleeping shorts. She was holding a fresh cup of coffee.

"This is for you," she set it down on the coffee table next to him.

Scott sat up, he had passed out on the sofa the night before under a sheet. He had managed to change into some sweatpants but must have fallen asleep before finding a t-shirt. The end of the night was a little bit of a blur. He could feel Jean's emerald eyes scanning his bare chest. He thought he saw her blushing, but it could have just been the sun in his eyes.

"Feeling okay?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen, apparently she was in the middle of something already, "It's almost noon."

Scott pushed himself up to a sitting position, "Jesus, I slept like a log." They probably made it in around 2 a.m.

"I got up not too long ago," She was wearing a thigh length green sweater dress and her hair was styled. She looked vibrant and fresh, he wondered what had her so peppy after their late-night drinking. Then he remembered it was Thanksgiving Day, an occasion that was worth dressing up for. He was thankful he brought a nicer sweater, not sure what they would be doing for the holiday.

"I am going to attempt to make us a real meal," Jean beamed while peeling potatoes, " _Attempt_ is the key word."

He had never seen her cook anything before, not that he had the chance since Remy made all their meals at the camp and this was the first time he'd seen her outside of their wooded camp. He grabbed the coffee cup and welcomed the hot liquid that slowly brought him back to life. Memories of the night before flashed through his mind, they had made it back to her apartment and shared a cold piece of pizza before deciding they were toast and departing to their own respective places for bed.

"Can I help with anything?" He got up and stretched, his skin moved over the muscles in his back and abs. This time he could tell Jean was turning different shades of red and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Surely, she'd seen her fair share of men. She probably had swarms of eligible bachelors knocking down her door.

She quickly glanced back down at the potato peeler in her hand, "Nope. Just finishing some prep stuff. I put a towel on my bed if you want to use my room to get ready. The water pressure isn't fantastic here but other than that, the shower works fine."

Scott nodded and took her offer, grabbing his backpack he headed into her room, shutting the door behind him. He went over to the little bathroom, making sure to grab the towel before heading in. The hot water cranked on and steam quickly filled the little box of a room, with just enough space for a standing shower, toilet, and stand-alone sink. He stepped into the shower and relished in the feeling of the hot water waking him up. It was a nice change from the old rickety shower in the farmhouse.

He finished his shower and dried off with the soft towel, definitely nicer than the old starchy ones at the camp that practically scraped his skin when he used them. He threw on a beige pullover sweater over a clean pair of jeans. He thought he looked festive enough. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it out so it would dry somewhat pleasant, opting to skip his baseball hat.

Scott emerged through the bedroom door to see the amber haired beauty untangling a string of lights from a cardboard box on the coffee table.

"Well you clean up pretty nice," she flashed him a glistening smile, "I picked up these lights from the resale shop I found the sofa at. I thought they would be fun to hang up and get into the holiday spirit."

"I can help," he walked over and grabbed the other end of the tangled mess. He'd never put up holiday lights before but it didn't seem like rocket science. He'd tackled bigger messes than this.

They were able to work out the long strand of lights and Scott stood on a chair as he hung them over the top panes of her window. There was music coming from the radio in the kitchen that played along softly as they each worked, Scott on the lights and Jean in the kitchen. The sky was robust with large puffy gray clouds. Little raindrops kissed the outside of the window and sparkled when he plugged in the lights that gave off a soft multi colored twinkle.

"They're perfect!" Jean rejoiced from the kitchen. She had put on a gray apron at some point while prepping.

Scott walked over and joined her in the kitchen, she had a pot of potatoes boiling and something that wonderful smelling was coming from the oven. He couldn't recall the last time he had a home cooked holiday meal like this. At Camp Magneto, they provided a big meal to the staff, but this wasn't in a big lodge or kitchen. He liked the intimacy of the small apartment and could see why people got excited over the holidays for once. His insides felt warm and cozy.

Jean grabbed a chilled bottle of white wine out of the small fridge and kicked the door shut with her heel. She handed him the bottle and a wine opener, motioning towards the glasses she had set out on the counter. He took the bottle in his hands and stared down at the opener, not being able to remember if he'd ever used one before. He studied the tool for a moment then managed to get the screw into the cork. He pulled up with a forceful tug and the cork released with a pop.

Jean slipped around his, brushing him lightly as she continued her work in the kitchen. Scott poured them each a half glass and she paused to pick hers up by the dainty stem.

"Cheers," she smiled, and their glasses clinked lightly.

"It smells amazing," Scott said, "Are you sure I can't help with anything in here?"

Jean shook her head after taking a cool sip of the wine, "You earned your keep with those lights. I didn't go over the top or anything. Just some turkey, potatoes, and cranberries."

He watched her blend the potatoes with a mixer and pull out a perfectly roasted turkey breast from the oven. He assumed she opted out of a full bird since it was just the two of them. He took that as a cue that their dinner was almost ready, and he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers, setting the little two-person table. He grabbed the candle off the coffee table and put it in the middle of the table for two. He found a lighter sitting on the counter and brought the little wick to life as he lit it.

"Oh, look at this fancy display," Jean walked over and set the turkey on the small table. Scott grabbed the cranberries and brought them over from the kitchen a few feet away. The tabletop was quickly becoming crowded with dishes. He went back to grab their wine glasses and set them down near their plates.

"Take a seat, I'll grab the potatoes and we can feast!" Jean retreated back to the counter and Scott sat on the wooden stools tucked under the table.

The sound of shattering glass filled the room and Scott jumped out of his seat, seeing Jean standing wide eyed in the kitchen. Potatoes had splattered the room and large shards of glass were scattered across the floor.

" _No_!" She yelled, and tears welled up in her eyes, " _shit_!"

Scott saw that she was okay, the bowl of potatoes were the only victim, apparently she had dropped them.

"It's okay!" He quickly walked over and stooped down to pick up some of the large broken chunks of glass. She knelt down and joined him, both of them picking up the mess together.

" _I'm such an idiot_!" Jean huffed, "Ugh, what a mess!"

Scott looked up at the frazzled woman and laughed, "You're a mess, Jean" he noticed a little piece of potato in her hair and he told her to hold still while he fished it out of her mane.

She started laughing as well, "Yeah, I guess _I am_." There were little splattered bits that jumped onto her dress, past the apron.

"You go clean yourself up and I'll finish this up."

She sighed and nodded.

* * *

Right before walking into the bedroom, Jean stopped in the doorway and turned to see the man picking up her mistake in the kitchen. Even when she was pissed off, he always somehow lightened her mood. Watching him on his knees in her little brick apartment brought a smile to her face. _How could she be mad when he was around?_

She retreated into the room and peeled off the green dress, _so much for trying to look nice._

She glanced in the mirror and rolled her eyes at the little mashed potato fragments that were entwined in her hair. She realized she'd need a full shower to get it all out. She knew he'd be busy for a little bit with the kitchen fiasco so she quickly jumped into the shower trying to focus on not letting her disaster completely ruin the night.

After the shower, she toweled tried her hair as much as possible. She pulled on a pair of black leggings and over sized college crew neck sweatshirt. She wasn't in the mood to dress up again and opted for being more comfortable. _Screw it._

"Okay, well dinner is ruined. I'm sorry," she said as she came back out of the bedroom after recollecting herself. But the room was empty. She had only been about twenty minutes. The kitchen was spotless, and the table was cleared. _Did he come to his senses and run off?_

"Hey," a voice came through the window and made her jump. She whirled around to see him poking his head through, "Ready?"

Jean quirked an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"C'mon," he said and disappeared. She heard his footsteps echoing up the metal fire escape.

 _What the hell?_

She made her way across the room and climbed through the window. She adventured up the fire escape and pulled herself over the ledge at the top. A light breeze whipped through her hair and she could see Scott's body move across the roof against the darkening sky, the sun was just about to dip below the horizon as it cast a warm hazy glow through the thinning clouds. The city lights twinkled as they came to life.

She walked across the roof near where she had first showed him the view the night before. There he was plopped down on top of a blanket with a few candles lit in the middle and their dinner plates.

"I knew you'd be in the room feeling sorry for yourself and thinking about how you ruined the meal," Scott said as he watched Jean kneel down and take a seat on the blanket, "And so, I wanted us to keep having a nice night. I noticed the rain stopped for a bit, so I borrowed some things from the apartment…but I didn't think you'd mind. I'll clean it all up."

Jean felt the air get trapped in her lungs and she looked at the candle lit rooftop holiday picnic. The light from the candle danced along his features and cast shadows in his chestnut breeze tousled hair. The sky around them was sparkling with street lights and glowing windows, most likely families enjoy a _full_ Thanksgiving dinner, potatoes and all. But all she could care less about the kitchen incident, that was far from her mind. The amazing man in front of her brought tears to her eyes.

"I know we don't have potatoes," he started rattling off, not sure if her silence was good or bad, "But look, I cut open the rolls and put some turkey and cranberries in them. I think it's the best damn turkey sandwich I've ever had."

She looked down at the plate and smiled, "Scott, I don't know what to say."

"Say anything," He was holding his own breath now.

"I thought you left," her voice was small.

He scooted a little closer to her, " _What_?"

"I came out of the bathroom and you were gone. I seriously thought you finally realized I'm a crazy person and took off running," her voiced bubbled into a little nervous laugh.

He reached his hand up and pushed a red locket of hair behind her ear, where the wind had slightly blown it in her face, "Well you are a crazy person, but that's what I love about you."

 _Love._

Her insides felt like bubble wrap, twisting and popping madly.

"You're incredible," she finally found her voice and grabbed his hand with a squeeze. They locked eyes and a wild spark between them grew in intensity. She couldn't describe the passion that she felt, not like with Logan, but this was different. She didn't lust after him or feel silly and stupid. Being near him always brought her happiness and made her feel on top of the world.

She felt their bodies gravitate towards each other. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. They grew closer, becoming within a breath of each other. She felt his warm lips radiate as they brushed hers. Her chest raced, and it was one of those moments that was a fraction of a second but felt like a lifetime passing by. He moved his chin upward and planted the sweetest kiss on her forehead. She gently closed her eyes, not what she had anticipated.

She breathed again, and he withdrew to his side of the blanket. _Was there something there? Did he want to kiss her like she wanted him to? Did he chicken out or was she looking into things more than she should?_

"I brought a blanket for you, I wasn't sure if you'd be cold," he nodded towards a folded blanket a couple feet away.

"You know, since I've moved to Seattle you're really showing your sweet side," Jean said as she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her. She took a bite of her sandwich, _he's right, this is really good._

Scott shrugged and turned to his own food, "Eh. It helps without the distraction," his words trailed off, she felt like he almost didn't mean to say the last part.

"Distraction?"

Scott looked off into the distance, "Logan."

Jean set down her sandwich. It was the last response she expected to hear and almost choked on her bite of food, "What the hell does Logan have to do with any of this?" The bubble wrap feeling deflated.

Scott turned back towards her, "Seriously, Jean?"

"Yeah, serious. What's the deal? I know you two have some issue with each other but that's not my problem."

Scott tried to hold back an amused snort and failed, "Actually, you _are_ the problem."

The redhead's eyes grew in surprise, her full attention on Scott.

"You two do your whole sneaking around thing all summer and Logan has a way of making his territory known. Since we are friends, he doesn't take to that so well for some reason."

"How did you know about that?!" Jean's voice escalated in a wild panicked tone.

"Relax," Scott took another bite of his food, "It wasn't obvious or anything but I'm not an idiot. You're a terrible liar and I know exactly where you were coming from all those nights in the woods. Not to mention anytime I was near you, he would look at me like a death wish. Not really the kind of guy I want to go out of my way to provoke, so I'd rather keep my distance and avoid the whole mess during the summer." Scott paused and then continued, "Besides, who else do you think returned your shoes for you?"

 _Damn, he knew this whole time. It was him. Logan could care less about his trail of women but Scott tried to keep her secret concealed._

Jean sucked in all the air her lungs could hold and let it out in a big dramatic sigh, "Okay, first off, Logan and I….we were never a thing." Apparently she was going to have to set the story straight now that it was all out there.

Scott raised an eyebrow unconvinced.

"No, seriously! I know it's hard to believe and ridiculous but it's complicated. We've never _been_ together, we've never dated…it's really hard to explain but that's all over with," Jean's tone became serious to try and convey to truth to him, she felt she owed him some sort of an explanation.

"It's not really my business."

"I don't want things with Logan to ruin whatever is between us."

Scott looked back into her eyes, " _Is_ there _something_ between us?"

Jean looked down at her hands, suddenly not sure how to answer that. She nibbled on her lower lip. The sound of taxis honking and an airplane above filled the space. She'd had an amazing last twenty four hours. But he lived across the country and they had different things going on in their lives. Was she foolish to chase this feeling or stupid to give up on it?

"I really have no idea," she finally laughed and spoke honestly. She looked back up at him. Regardless of whatever was happening between them she couldn't help but realize how devilishly handsome he was. She could see some hint of hesitancy in his eyes, _was he just as confused?_

Scott nodded and they both silently agreed that was enough heavy talk for the night. Words only muddled things but just being together and their natural interactions always seemed more organic and comfortable. The idea of potentially exploring something there between them, not closing the door but not opening it fully sent electricity through Jean's veins. Would things change after this subtle conversation or remain the same? Was she caught up in the moment and feeling of having someone familiar in her new city? She tried to sift through the feelings but it felt exhausting.

* * *

They finished up their rooftop dining and big raindrops began to crash out of the sky. Jean shrieked and grabbed their plates, heading for the apartment. Scott gathered up the blankets and candles and tried to be just as quick but ended up catching the brunt of a quick door pour. He climbed into the window with his hair clinging to his forehead in damp clusters. Jean was waiting for him on the other side of the black metal window frame grinning ear to ear.

"Holy shit, you're soaked! You were only out there for a minute longer than me," she laughed.

He grabbed his backpack and fished around for dry clothing. He pulled the sweater over his head exposing his torso momentarily before replacing it with a dark gray t-shirt. He plopped down on the couch, catching his breath from the sprint across the roof as Jean messed with her stereo. A few moments later the speakers softly came to life. The acoustic melodies and covers of popular songs playing quietly in the background. Jean turned and swayed her body to the soft tunes while he watched in amusement. She rocked over to the kitchen and refilled their wine glasses before joining him on the couch, letting her body fall next to him. Their legs touched lightly but it felt natural, like putting on his favorite cap.

"What this?" Scott asked about the music, trying to fall back into the moment. Enjoying the last night of their short reunion.

"Boyce Avenue. My favorite cover band," Jean sipped the chilled wine, "What kind of music do you normally like?"

Scott shrugged, "I don't know. A little bit of everything. This is nice right now."

"Such a simple man," she rolled the stem of the glass between her thumb and index finger.

A cover of Everlong by the Foo Fighters started crooning through the speaker, the soft guitar plucking away to the singer,

 _*_ _Hello, I've waited here for you, Everlong….*_

Scott looked up at the woman swaying next to him, relaxed, and faintly twinkling from the strand of lights they hung earlier. He could have stayed in this moment forever.

 _*_ _…and I wonder…*_

She must have been thinking the same because she rest her head on his shoulder and nuzzled into his side with her body, then rest her hand on his thigh. It wasn't sexual or overly provocative, it

was comfortable and familiar. He didn't overthink it and went with what felt right. He put his hand on top of hers and stroked the top of her knuckles with his thumb.

 _*_ …. _If everything could ever feel this real forever….*_

He knew tomorrow he would be stepping back onto the plane that would rip them apart, hurling him halfway across the country back where he closed his eyes and rested his head on top of hers, trying to think about their departure so prematurely.

 _*…If anything could ever be this good again…*_

He looked down at their hands, she turned her palm up and their fingers did a dance with each other. Lightly touching and brushing. He wasn't sure what was brewing between the two of them. He could smell the lavender soap he'd seen in her shower earlier.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," he felt her soft vibrations against his shoulder as she spoke.

He kept his eyes closed and shifted, resting his head gently against the back of the teal sofa, "Hm," He thought for a moment. What could he really tell her? He wasn't exactly a walking storybook and tried to forget most of his past on a daily basis.

"Oh c'mon, you've got to have something," she laughed softly, "I feel like I know everything about you and nothing all at once."

"I know what you mean."

Jean traced the top of his hand, up and down each finger delicately. Her gentle touch was soothing. He couldn't recall a time he'd been close with a woman like this, maybe any human at all. He had a few one-night stands in the past but nothing that ever meant anything to him like this. Nothing this simple and perfect.

"I just feel like there are some big pieces missing," Jean shrugged, "I want to know more."

"There's not a lot you're missing," he could feel her sigh underneath him, "No, really, I'm not trying to be a jerk."

"Look I get it, I hate my home life too," she hesitated, "I mean, I don't know what you went through or anything. And a lot of people don't take me serious when I say I have issues with my parents because of the money…"

"What do you mean?"

"I think people think money can buy happiness. It can't, and it can't buy decent parenting. My whole life I wanted to just be me, but they had other plans for me. Expectations. Bullshit," Jean sat up and took a sip of her wine, "I was so furious when they took my education in their own hands. Throwing their money around like usual. Their whole world is fake. I haven't spoken to them since I left for Seattle, so _I get it_ …"

Scott quirked his head at her implication, "Get what?"

"Well, I've put it together enough that you probably don't speak to your folks. I pay attention to things too, ya know."

Scott nodded and gulped down his wine, trying to keep his hand steady. "You're right, I don't speak to them," he set the glass down. His hand clenched under her touch.

"How come?" Her eyes were big and innocent, pure curiosity swirled in them. He wanted to capture this moment and preserve it. Before she knew anything and could judge him as some broken bum.

He pulled all the air he could through his nostrils and his lungs filled. It wasn't something he really talked about, he hadn't really given much thought to when it would eventually come up. His emotions made him naive. Perhaps he thought the clumsy redhead would be so into her own fast-moving world, she wouldn't have time to stop and see his.

"I don't know them." His voice was straight forward and void of emotion. What else could he say?

Jean's arched eyebrows raised as she was taking a finishing drink of her own wine, " _Wh-what_?"

He nodded and looked out the window. The raindrops collected in large pools before spilling down across the panes.

"Yeah, told you there's not a lot to know. I bounced around foster care until I was a teen and left the first moment I could."

She appeared to be lost for words, wheels were spinning behind her emerald orbs.

"It's okay," he grabbed her hand quickly trying to center her thoughts.

"Oh my god, Scott, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pried, _fuck_ , I'm so sorry!"

He grinned, "It's fine," he was amused at the fact he was sitting here soothing _her_ over the news.

"No, I am such a…such…. _God_ , I am here complaining about my parents and you, don't have _any?"_ She searched his eyes for confirmation and he nodded to her, "It all makes sense."

"I've had twenty-four years to process the whole thing," he smirked, "I'm fine, Jean, I swear!"

"How come you never told me?"

"I didn't think it was important. You don't talk about your thing with your home either."

She nibbled on her lower lip, "Okay, that's fair." She looked down at her watch instinctively, but her wrist was bare, "Ugh. I forgot my stupid watch fell off."

Scott shifted, feeling suddenly aware of their bodies so close, "You lost your watch?" He was thankful for the minor switch in their conversation. Clearly they both had become a little uncomfortable.

Jean pushed herself up off the couch, collecting their wine glasses and bringing them over to the kitchen counter on the other side of the room, "Yeah, at Shorty's, it was old anyways. I'm surprised the band lasted as long as it did," she glanced at the little glowing clock on the stove, "It's late and you've got an early flight tomorrow."

He could take a cue. Scott laid down across the couch, adjusting the pillow beneath him.

"Do you need anything? Hope the couch isn't too uncomfortable," Jean walked over and turned off the music before walking over to the doorway of her room, looking down at him across the sofa.

It was a tad cramped. Almost like wearing a shoe size too small, but nothing he couldn't manage for a couple of nights. "This is great, thanks."

"Goodnight," she smiled at him and disappeared into the darkness of her room.

Scott lay there in the dark, the twinkling lights still showing off their dim colors. He caught the reflection of them in a picture frame hanging on the wall above the couch. He realized there wasn't a picture inside of it, but rather a large red leaf that was pressed into place. She must have saved one of the leaves he had sent her. The thought brought a warmth to his core.

He lay awake, half hazy from the wine and still buzzing from their conversation. He felt the blood push circuits through his system at high speed. Everything was going so perfectly, even with their dinner mishap. His mind wandered to the moment on the roof. He was dying to kiss her, and it felt right, but he hesitated and didn't want to ruin their friendship. Feelings made things messy and they weren't exactly in a position to explore something there while they lived so far apart. _Did she feel all of this too? Was he imagining it or were they simply just close friends?_ The lines of what he felt and what was really happening felt blurred.

But he couldn't deny he felt like their conversation had ended abruptly when she found out about his upbringing. He should have known better. It felt like the shards of glass he cleaned up earlier had made their way into his gut, thrashing about, instead of the garbage bin.


	9. Heart & Home

"Bonjour, brotha'," Remy's robust voice boomed across the kitchen as Scott entered through the swinging door. Scott gave a little nod to Remy who was taking inventory of the freezer stock. "How was da' trip?"

Scott had returned early evening. He had a 6 a.m. flight and spent most of the day in and out of airports filled with full bellies of holiday travelers. Before catching his painfully early cab, he briefly woke the sleeping beauty in her bed to give her a hug goodbye. It was a quick and sleepy goodbye. He felt that ripping the band aid of reality was easier than prolonging a drawn out possibly emotion farewell, that probably would have brought more questions than answers.

"It was quick," Scott grabbed an apple out of the fruit bin and bit into the juicy red skin.

Remy checked off the little boxes and wrote small numbers next to the items on his list. He was holding a clipboard and kept the pen tucked behind his ear between marking his counts.

"But 'twas a gud trip, non?" He didn't look up from his task but his voice inflected a hint of concern.

 _Was_ it a good trip? Scott let out an unsure sigh, "Yeah, it was," he shrugged, "As good as it can get."

Remy glanced up out of the corner of his eye. The Cajun frowned and tucked the clipboard under his arm while turning towards Scott, "Ah," he said as if he had just made an affirmation in his mind.

Scott looked back at the man, "What?"

"Ah have seen dat look before, mon ami."

Scott remained silent waiting for the explanation.

"Da' femme is in your head," Remy grinned, " _Amour_."

Well he was right, she was definitely in his head. There wasn't any use arguing it at this point. He continued to finish the apple as the thin core was whittled down almost to nothing. He hadn't checked his email yet, fearful of what he would find. Or even more fearful of what he wouldn't find. He couldn't tell whether things between them were growing or just becoming weirder. He was afraid to push deeper and fall into rejection. He had tried to convince himself over thousands of miles on the plane that everything was in his head. Christ, Jean was going to be a doctor and he was here playing camp counselor. _Who was he kidding?_

"You shouldn't t'ink so much," Remy had returned to his counting as he worked his way down the list, "Ov'r t'inkin' can get us all cau't up in our heads. Da' heart is da' true guide to life."

For someone who didn't seem to have any significant other, Remy always sounded like the fortune cookie of love. Perhaps he was right and he shouldn't be giving it so much thought, "Yeah."

Remy tapped the clipboard with his pen, "All t'ings work out if dey are meant to be."

 _If only it were that easy._

* * *

It had been a few days since Scott's departure and Jean tried to distract herself with returning back to her classes and work. They had been busier the past few days at the coffee shop and expected it to only get worse with Christmas shopping season officially launched. The red head had just finished a long morning of classes and afternoon work shift. She made herself her routine evening decaf tea, scooped up her laptop, a blanket, and headed to the roof.

She laid the blanket out on her typical stop on the roof and collapsed on top of it. She stared up at the bottoms of the clouds. Her eyes followed the dark colossal mounds as they slowly morphed and twisted in shape. Over the past couple of days, she'd occasionally hear the email notification ding on her computer and her heart would do an Olympic gymnastics routine. Flipping and contorting in an exhilarating burst of emotions. She would rush over only to see an email from a professor or classmate. Ending the gold medal feeling in her chest.

Even though she was bummed she hadn't heard from him, she wasn't surprised. She was usually the bolder one and the first to communicate. He was more of the "no news is good news" type. She convinced herself that by not hearing from him, things were actually okay between them. But was he just back to his everyday life? Was his mind running off to a place in his head that was filled with her like she was experiencing the last few days with him?

She growled out loud, frustrated and unsure with what to do with these thoughts and feelings. Maybe she should have invested a little more into dating as a teen or even the past couple years. She could use a little experience right about now.

She tried to think what the best next move should be. She was feeling impulsive and wanted nothing but to convince him to move out to Seattle and live happily ever after. _Gag_. That sounded so cheesy to her but she couldn't escape the feeling. She rolled over onto her belly and flipped open the laptop.

"Okay," she breathed. _I can do this._

She opened up a new email and he little cursor blinked on the screen. She wasn't sure what to write. So she just started typing.

"Scott,

Thank you for a wonderful time last week. I hope you made it home safe."

 _Oh god, that sucks._ She deleted it. _Too formal._

She tried again,

"Scott,

I had an amazing time with you last week. I can't stop thinking about us."

 _Sappy and crappy._ Delete.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She decided to put all her chips in and just say what she truly wanted. She opened her eyes and began typing, it was short and simple. She clicked send before giving it a second look and chicken out.

* * *

About a month ago, Charles designated a small office for Scott in one of the spare smaller rooms in the main office building. It had been used as storage with different various boxes of old mismatched t-shirts and deflated basketballs. It was a simple room and he was given permission to clear it out and make it his own office. It was small and lacked windows but Scott only spent a few hours a day in his office when he wasn't out hosting a retreat group or working around the grounds. He found an ancient metal and wood folding table. It worked great with an extra chair he found lying around the office. All he needed was his laptop, notebook, and a few pens. It was simple, efficient, and worked. Good enough for him.

Things weren't the same when he returned from Seattle. Scott noticed a little gold name plate on the wall that shined in the light and caught his eye before walking into his little office.

"SCOTT SUMMERS - Program Manager"

Something about seeing his name in the fake etched gold plate felt so permanent, it was a kind gesture that he wasn't expecting. He smiled to himself, grateful for Charles and his kindness.

But the surprise didn't stop there. Apparently Charles had upgraded his small office suite entirely. When he opened the door, the smell of fresh paint stung his nose in a permanent marker kind of way. The walls were coated with a fresh light evergreen color. He found out later that was Kitty's idea. Bobby and Kitty came by on their fall break from high school to help Charles put together the makeover for Scott.

There was an oak desk that looked used but in great shape facing him when he walked in, complete with a wooden rolling chair. Across from the desk was a simple wooden chair, perhaps if he ever had a visitor in his office. On top of the desk there was a desktop computer that also looked a few years old but nothing they did on the computers was super advanced, it would work just fine. There was also a phone, a sticky note holder, and a little wooden box that had various pens and pencils poking out of the top. On the back wall, there was a large watercolor style framed painting of a forest, the obscure colors creating mystifying and comforting shapes. Charles explained that although he didn't have a window at least he could still get a view.

The whole gesture was overwhelming. It took him a few days to realize this was actually _his_ office. A tangible space in the world that symbolized his importance to the camp. His life was falling into place at the camp, but he couldn't help but feel his heart was still trapped somewhere in Seattle.

* * *

The office makeover helped focus Scott's attention elsewhere for the moment. He was able to hang up some calendars and get better organized. He was at his desk, mulling over some designs he was planning for a clearing in the woods. He had envisioned a ropes course for team building exercises. Camp Magneto had a simple little obstacle area designed for the various levels of special needs children. Scott took the initial idea and was working on customizing it for the camp. He would have different obstacles up in the trees that could accommodate a variety of ages. It would be a thrill for the kids and add for another great activity for retreats. He knew it would be a big project and he wouldn't have any other choice than to enlist Logan's help. Tension between them had simmered, although they rarely spoke outside of the necessities of their jobs.

*DING*

The computer chimed and Scott's inbox flashed a new message from Jean.

He held his breath, unsure of what was inside. He tried to ignore it and focus on his project planning in front of him. He stared at the paper but all that could fill his head was thoughts of what she might have to say. He had toyed with the idea of sending an email the last couple days but what could he say?

 _Hi Jean, I want to ruin our friendship by saying I'm crazy about you. Sincerely, an idiot._

He decided to stay true to character and not act reckless with a hasty answer. Besides maybe she was just sending some routine update about her life, perhaps she tried a new tea or adopted a cat. _Not likely._

 _God damn it, just open it._

There wasn't any use in trying to ignore it. The chaotic presence of her email was like a wild bird loose in the room, knocking all his shit over and squawking obnoxiously. He sat up and clicked on the unopened email.

DATE: November 28, 6:15 pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: Hi

Do you have any plans for Christmas?

xoxo,

J

Scott smirked and he sat back in his chair. The x's and o's lit up like a neon sign in his brain. She seemed to genuinely want to see him again. _Holy shit, she wanted to see him again._ He tried to let it sink in. He knocked his knuckle on the sturdy oak desk as he thought about the logistics of this actually happening. They had done it already once, why not again? He glanced at the calendar on the wall and the week between Christmas and New Year's was marked off. He had the free time and he would empty his savings to see her.

He hit reply.

DATE: November 28, 6:22 pm

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: Re: Hi

I'll see you under the mistletoe.

He hit send and realized how ridiculous that reply was. _See you under the mistletoe? Jesus Christ._ He was ready to dig a hole and hide in it forever.

Not even a minute later his computer dinged again. He opened the immediate reply.

DATE: November 28, 6:23 pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: Cheeseball

Cheesy, but I like it :)

J

Of course she would call him out on it. Her playful response made him giddy, like a seventh grader filling a diary with hearts and spelling out the name of his crush a thousand times. He wasn't sure what was coming over him but he replied again,

DATE: November 28, 6:24 pm

TO: Jean Grey

FROM: Scott Summers

SUBJECT: Re: Cheeseball

I like _you_.

Another *ding*

DATE: November 28, 6:25 pm

TO: Scott Summers

FROM: Jean Grey

SUBJECT: Re:Re: Cheeseball

Looking forward to that mistletoe :)

J

Scott leaned back in his chair with a fixed idiot smile across his face. He decided to leave it at that for now. It felt true to their typical pace, skirt around the edge of something serious and then pull back. He didn't want to push his luck any further. He was half expecting to wake up from a dream at any moment. Maybe he was someone in a coma somewhere and this was all a fabrication of his mind. Regardless of what was truly happening, he was thankful to the universe for somehow aligning his stars, not sure what he did to deserve it.

So it was on the table. He liked her and she seemed to be into it, maybe even share the same feelings. _Looking forward to that mistletoe._ Did she want him to kiss her? He thought about the possibility of her supple lips and those long lashes brushing his cheeks. He shifted in his seat, unaware at how much the thought the arousing thought was physically affecting him.

 _Woah, buddy._

He turned off the computer and decided to head to see what was cooking tonight in the lodge. He thought the walk would help work off his excitement. He wasn't sure if his nerves were more or less of a tangled mess after that little burst of exchanges with Jean.

He entered the lodge and Logan was eating at one of the tables with Charles. Typically, Logan brought his meals back to his own cabin, like a bear in his cave. Sometimes he would be caught up in a project that ran into the evening and he'd dip in the dining hall while taking a break. Scott grabbed a bowl of pot roast that Remy had set out for the small staff. He joined the two men and sat a couple chairs down on the long table.

"Good evening, Scott," Charles said warmly. Judging by his empty bowl he had a few bites left at best. "I think you brought the weather back with you from Seattle." The older man's eyes twinkled in amusement. It had been nothing but big frumpy clouds and spurts of weak rain on and off since he returned.

Logan's eyes darted up.

Scott laughed, "Yeah, I suppose so." Rain was never his friend, especially when you're sleeping in the gutter. "It's not so bad," After Seattle, there was something soothing about the big clouds and raindrops. _He could smell the candle in her apartment. The bits of potato in her hair. The soft twinkle of lights on the window._

It felt like _their_ weather. Something they could share, even when apart.

Charles picked up his bowl, "Well I am glad it doesn't get your spirits down." He nodded to the two men, "Sorry to leave so soon, but it seems another patch of rain is headed this way and I'd like to make it in for the night before I get caught in it. Have a good evening, gentlemen," He excused himself and headed to the kitchen to wash up before exiting.

"So Seattle, huh?" Logan grunted between bites.

Scott nodded, "Yeah. Ever been?"

Logan snorted, "Close enough. Spent a little time passing through Vancouver."

Scott had the sense at times that Logan had some ties with the north. The few times he'd ever heard Logan mentioned any place but the camp, it was usually somewhere in Canada. He wondered if Logan was Canadian, or at a time ever lived up that way. When Scott first arrived, he wondered what Logan had done prior to the camp. It seemed that he was just a part of it and thinking about Logan in any other setting was unnatural. That was before Logan turned into the asshole hulk, then Scott concluded that he must have been a wild animal in his past and tried to stop thinking about the rabid hothead all together.

"Did you see Jean?" Logan was blunt and to the point. Clearly Logan wasn't as dense as he seemed.

Scott nodded again, "I did." He didn't feel like volunteering any additional information. Especially now knowing that Jean and Logan weren't a thing, at least according to her. There was a level of intimidation lifted. _Why the fuck should he care what Logan thinks? She's not his. She never was. Never will be._

"I will be seeing her again at the end of next month," Scott said it with intentional confidence tied with a bow, like a special delivery for the beast across the table.

Logan's lip twitched, "Listen, Bub. I don't know what kind of game you're up to-"

"No, _you_ listen, _Bub_ ," Scott was quick to interject, "Mind your own _fucking_ business."

Logan growled, "I've known her long before you pranced into town. She _is_ my business!"

Scott sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. He kept his expression calm like he was so comfortable he could nap in his seat right there. He was determined to show Logan how his little fit was not affecting him. It felt like a power move.

Scott smirked, "Not according to her."

Scott saw a flash across Logan's eyes, he couldn't tell if it was hurt or more anger bubbling up to the top. He knew he had hit him deep. He admitted it was kind of an asshole thing to say. Despite whatever happened with Jean and Logan, he couldn't deny that there appeared to be a history of some depth between the two. It was a low blow, but Logan really needs to be the one receiving hits once in a while. It might keep the wild animal in check.

Scott was anticipating having to duck from a swing across the table. Perhaps his little confidence boost from the emails earlier in his office was going to his head and now he'd have to pay for it. However, Logan surprised him and stormed out of the lodge.

* * *

"What are you up to this weekend?" Scarlett asked Jean. The two women were busy working side by side. They concocted different coffee creations like the java sorceresses of Seattle. The line was longer than usual and drink orders filled up their screens as they rushed to get them out quickly. It was a hectic pace, like an all-day morning rush, but it helped the shifts go by quickly and the tip out at the end of a shift was a lot more generous.

Jean shrugged and frothed the steamed milk in a latte, "Same old stuff. Work and study. Work and study…work, work and study, study," her voice trailed off in a half sarcastic tone that said even though she was joking, there was some painful truth there.

Scarlet laughed, "Girl, we need to get you on some dates or something."

Jean laughed and shook her head, "No, no!" The last thing she had time for in her life was dating. Besides, how could she begin to think of juggling multiple men when she already had one in particular that filled her head all day.

"Well you seem to be pretty chipper lately for someone who isn't getting laid on the reg, what's your secret?" the dark haired woman set two drinks on the counter and called out a name.

Jean finished up the drink she was on and glanced at the screen for the next order while wiping her hands on the maroon apron, "There's no secret!" Her lips split her face in half as she smiled wider.

"Seriously, you spend all your time in this cramped up coffee or hoarded up at school, and you're still somewhat sane. And God, you've been smiley the past couple of weeks," Scarlet stuck her tongue out in a joking manner. The black-haired cat-eyed beauty definitely had a bit of a goth side to her, with her dark warm lipsticks and biker looking boytoys. Sunshine and rainbows were not her forte. "Like ever since your dude friend was here, you've become little miss giddy-" Scarlet's dark eyes lit up, "Oh!"

Jean laughed, "Stop."

"Oh you like him!"

Jean shook her head and drizzled the deep golden caramel sauce on top of her creation in the cup. She grabbed the cinnamon shaker and dark little flakes sprinkled on top of the latte, she tried to hide her shaking hands.

"Yeah, I've been seeing you all happy and being a total fucking weirdo," Scarlet teased in her thick accent, "Does he know?"

Jean sighed, "I think so?" There wasn't any use fighting it, Scarlett was relentless and had caught on.

"John!" Scarlet yelled out delivering a hot tea on the counter. She turned back to Jean, "So like what's the deal, because doesn't he live far away?"

Jean shrugged, "Yeah. I haven't really given it that much thought. I'm not too sure what is going on between us truthfully. It's all butterflies and silly stuff right now. But he's coming out again."

"He is?" Scarlet's tone was upbeat and surprised, " _Soon_?"

Jean nodded while popping a lid on her drink and setting it on the counter, "Christmas," her eyes lit up and she bit her lower lip unconsciously.

"Wow, that's kinda serious, don't you think?" Scarlet wiggled her eyebrows at Jean, "And yeah, I think he's totally into you. Especially if he's willing to come out again so quickly, and like, with the holidays and stuff."

"Uh, I don't know," Jean would have loved to say yes but she wasn't ready to put the cart before the horse. Besides she knew nothing about how any of this worked, "It just works out with our schedules, ya know? Like we both already have the time off." She tried to convince herself that's what was really going on. She knew better deep down. The holidays were becoming just an excuse to see each other. _But what happens in January and there weren't any major holidays until later in the year? Did she expect to invite him out for Valentine's day? Would that be considered a long distance relationship?_ This is why she didn't try to think about it too much. _Day by day_ , she tried to tell herself.

"Well, I am throwing a raging holiday party this year at my place the day after Christmas. You should bring the boy," She winked at her friend.

Jean flashed a cheeky smile, "Count us in."

* * *

November and December were slower months for Camp Xavier. They hosted a handful of retreats and Christmas parties. The boathouse was locked up for the winter and most of the activities would take place inside the main lodge and the cozy warmed cabins. They still tried to get a campfire going to warm everyone up at least once or twice during a retreat.

With less to manage around the camp since most of the outdoor activities off the agenda, Scott was able to dive in and catch up on the business side of things. Scott would spend a couple afternoons a week learning more of how the camp operated. Scott had a sense that Charles was easing more responsibility on him since he had seemed to be adjusting well to his current role. Truthfully, Scott enjoyed it and ultimately, it made his job easier. He had learned how to schedule retreats and manage planning for upcoming smaller retreats all on his own.

Scott saw a flier in town about some free classes at the local community college. They were marketed for to show people how to utilize the internet to better organize your business. Scott floated the idea by Charles, who thought it was an excellent opportunity that Scott should attend.

With his trust laptop in hand, he went to the small series of classes and tried to soak up all the useful information he could use back at camp. The classes were at night after all the college classes were over. It was bizarre being in a building of higher education. The last time Scott could recall being in a school was maybe sometime around junior year of high school. The details were hazy, he never actually graduated. He wasn't an idiot and could keep up fine academically. However, he was so checked out at that point, he was ready to get out from under the foster care system and be on his own. Little did he know; the real world was just as unforgiving.

Still, it was his first time in a college and being in a college classroom wasn't as magical or mysterious as he had thought. It was a cinderblock bare room with some tables and a couple white boards. It didn't feel that inaccessible or unobtainable. The building itself wasn't particularly fancy but also not a dump. It wasn't like Jean's intimidating massive castle looking university, he actually rather liked it.

"Okay, so I went ahead and already put in everything for next year that we have booked already," Scott was in Charles' office. Scott was leaning over the back of Charles, as they both looked at the computer screen. Scott was pointing on the new digital calendar they set up. Charles had insisted that Scott use everything he learned in his classes to help update them in the office. In return, Scott had been able to shift their booking and schedules online. He had already helped Remy set up inventory on a spreadsheet online as well. Now they could all plan, order, and work more seamlessly. They were small changes but a good start and made a decent impact.

"Excellent," Charles brimmed at their new system. Although he was an older man, he always seemed eager and open to new ideas and challenges.

Scott went around the desk and sat back down across from Charles, "I know it's a little different, but with some practice it will only get easier,"

"I'm sure it will," Charles nodded and chuckled, "We need all the help we can get."

There was truth to his statement. They were growing, which was evident since they hired Scott and Remy. However, it didn't seem like they still had all the hands they needed. Scott had been helping with more menial tasks for Charles lately. Truthfully, Charles seemed to be a little slower physically despite mentally being sharp as a tac.

"Speaking of help," Scott cleared his throat, "I've been meaning to ask about how we are doing,"

Charles' chest rose as he pulled in the air to his chest, giving a little hum as he expelled his breath, "Well," he started, searching for the right words, "Busy,"

"I know," Scott sat up stiffer in his chair, "Do you think we could use more help?"

"Well, of course," Charles tried to muster a positive smile that fell a little flat, "But truthfully we are a nonprofit and don't have the funds to take on any more full-time staffers at the moment."

"I thought you would say that," Scott looked prepared for that answer.

It amused Charles, "You look like you might have a solution?"

Scott nodded, he never liked feeling like he was taking control. This wasn't his camp, but Charles always seemed open to listening to ideas at least. Maybe the old man liked not being the only brain around here all the time.

"What about someone part time?" Scott seemed to quickly rattle off his proposal nervously and quickly, "We could use maybe like a part time secretary, office type person. The phone calls, copies, emails, and all that other stuff adds up a lot of our time. I was thinking…well, you know, Kitty is always popping by randomly and begging to help out, since she is local and all. What if we hired her a few hours a week to help out? We could pay her hourly and for her time since she is always volunteering anyways. I could run it by her, if you think that's okay?"

Charles was silent a moment, he never jumped to an answer, but it still made Scott temporarily uncomfortable.

"Do you think it would be a good use of our time and money?" Charles looked at the man across from him.

Scott wasn't sure how he was feeling based off his response, "I do," he finally decided to say confidently.

"Well then, let's move forward with it. Sounds like you've given it proper thought and it seems like an excellent compromise," Charles' eyes twinkled back to their familiar glow, "I trust you will take care of this matter. Please talk to Kitty, make all the arrangements, and get her set up. I look forward to seeing how this works out."

Scott sprang up out of his chair as if he were ready to tackle the project immediately, "Yes, sir. Thank you," he scooped up his belongings and shuffled to his office to give Kitty a phone call.

* * *

Of course, Kitty was ecstatic to hear the news, Scott had to hold the phone away from his head from the shrieking on the other end. She insisted she could run right over and start right that second. Scott assured her that there was plenty of time to get started and organized but glad she was willing to take on the role.

Over the next couple of weeks, he got her set up at her desk in the front of the main office. Until now, it had just been a counter with a desk behind it, like a reception area. There were a few chairs in a waiting area outside of Charles' office. Behind the desk was the hall that led back to Scott's little office.

Scott and Kitty worked together to come up with a schedule. They agreed that she would come for two to three afternoons a week after school and one-half day on the weekends for a whopping $13.00 an hour. Kitty seemed pretty stoked since her current job was scooping horse hay and poop at the local stables for only $9.00 an hour. She said she would do this job for free she loved being at the camp so much, but Scott assured her they couldn't accept that.

Scott got the teen acquainted with some basic tasks to get started. She was quick to pick them up too. Soon she was able to quickly scan calls, give information about the camp, do some light scheduling, get the mail, and place or receive orders. Although it was a little bit of time getting her familiar with the tasks, Scott could tell it was starting to work out like he had hoped. They had more time to focus on bigger tasks and it was also amusing to have the bubbly lass bouncing around.

She took no time to get settled. By her first weekend shift, she had already "Kittyized" the office. She rearranged the chairs in the front, so they looked more inviting and professional. She brought a couple of leafy potted plants from home, her mother insisted she bring them since they had brought so many in from the winter. There was also a small lamp set up on the counter and a candle on the little side table in the waiting area. Behind the desk was full of colorful sticky notes and pens with wobbly fuzzy creatures springing from the cap. She must have found an old radio and plugged it in. The constant soft crooning of holiday music filled the room. It was a cheerful and homey feeling. It kept all of their spirits up, especially when Remy would stop by with a fresh batch of cookies. The chef loved having a youth around to spoil with goodies. Scott joked they never got that kind of treatment before they had Kitty around, which Remy jokingly assured that she was a lot more fun to have around, than the two old guys in the office.

* * *

"Woah, that doesn't look fun," Kitty bounced into Scott's office and plopped into the chair across from his desk. Scott had hung up a large whiteboard in his office. Typically, he would use it to help plan out the week and work out his ideas, but today it was filled with numbers, lines, and long algebraic equations.

Scott put a cap on the marker and turned around. Kitty was a couple hours early for her shift, "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Kitty chomped on some gum, "Yeah, but like, it was a half day. Don't worry, I'm not on the clock yet. I just wanted to come by early and put up some ornament decorations around the office that I cut out of colored construction paper."

Scott smirked playfully, _of course she would._

"So, what's all this stuff? Looks like the stuff we did all last year in school," Kitty twisted her nose at the board.

"Uh," Scott shrugged, "It probably is the same stuff."

During his last technology free class at the community college, Scott had wandered down to the information desk. It was empty since the staff had left for the day, but he helped himself to a couple of free fliers. One of them had advertisement for a GED test coming up in December. He thought on it for a few days before deciding he should at least start with his basic high school degree. He found a couple of free tests online to help access what he needed to study for. To his surprise, he tested pretty well for his first practice test. He had some areas to improve on his writing and math.

He started studying in his spare time. At night he would listen to some test prep books on tape while working around the cabin. During the day, he would do some quick test questions while taking a small break from work.

An idea popped into his head, "How well did you do in your math last year?"

Kitty, now curious, went on, "Uh pretty good. I would have gotten an A plus, but the teacher was kind of a witch, so I ended up getting an A _minus_. Not even like a normal A, she _had_ to give me that ugly _minus!"_

It was all he needed to hear, "That's great!"

"It is?" Kitty cocked her head.

Scott tapped the cap of the marker on the white board, "Do you know how to solve theses?"

Kitty straightened in her chair and squinted at the board, "Oh yeah, these don't look that bad. Just equations, all you need to do is FOIL and simplify."

Scott laughed internally, _she made it sound so effortless._

"Okay smarty pants, can you help me?" Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, like solve it or what?"

"I never finished high school," Scott sighed, he would have to tell her some details in order to enlist her help, "It's a long story but I want to take the GED test. I am struggling a little with this math,"

Kitty clapped her hand, eager to help before he had to ask for it, "Oh!" her eyes lit up like her candle in the front office, "Like you want me to be your tutor?"

Scott nodded, "I can pay you in free otter pops from the kitchen and let you decorate whatever you want."

Kitty grinned, "Deal!"

* * *

Their arrangement was a win, win. Kitty stayed an hour after her shift two days a week and helped Scott work out some of the problems in the office. As his confidence built in his algebraic abilities, the office looked more and more like Rudolf and Frosty the Snowman threw up all over it. Holiday lights twinkled in the window and it reminded him of the little flat in Seattle.

"Incoming package!"

Scott looked up from his desk as he heard Kitty halfway down the hall before she had reached his door. She held up a brown little box in her hand and wiggled it.

"Just set it on the desk, please," Scott tried to act uninterested, but his insides were twisting with excitement.

Kitty plopped it down then helped herself into his seat, her usual spot where she would occasionally ramble on.

"What's in the box, huh?"

Scott turned his chair from his computer to the girl in front of his desk, "Just a gift."

Kitty's lips opened, "Uh obviously, it's like, Christmas time. Who is it for?"

Scott rubbed his temple, "A friend," He was pretty sure his whole little secret crush was still a secret, and he intended to keep it that way.

"Aw, jeez, you're no fun," Kitty pouted. He was sure she would have loved some juicy details, she was just as bad as Hank sometimes.

"Knock, knock," a tapping on the door frame caught both of their attention. Scott stood up immediately and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"See you tomorrow, Scott." Kitty's expression slumped, "I'll be in the car," the girl slipped past the woman and down the hall.

"Hi," Scott said to the blonde woman. He instantly remembered their last encounter when he drove her home from her locked out car. Kitty had mentioned her car was being borrowed by some family in town for the holidays and that she was relying on rides this week to and from camp. Scott drove her home last night and tonight her sister must have been picking her up.

"Emma," the woman's red lips spoke.

"Yes, Emma! Sorry I'm terrible with names," Scott wiped his palms on his pants and extended his hand to her. She walked in and shook his. She had a bottle of wine tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The woman gave a sultry throaty hum of a laugh from underneath her designer pea coat, "It's quite all right."

She didn't seem as if she was just picking up Kitty as she lingered in his office. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Please, take a seat if you'd like," he gestured at the old wooden chair next to her, "How are you?"

"Oh, you're always such the gentleman!" Her dark icy gaze was unmoved but her lips curled into a smile, "However, I just wanted to pop in and officially thank you for your help a while back."

Scott shook his head, "Oh, it was nothing, no need to thank me."

"But I must, Mr. Summers," her announcement of his name caught him off guard, "This is a token of my appreciation," she handed him the bottle of wine that had a little note card on top. The only time he had really had any wine before was with Jean, so he wasn't sure what to expect or what the etiquette was to receive such a gift. Was there was thing wine people did when giving each other bottles? Judging by the posh city woman in front of him, he would bet it was some fancy brand.

"Wow, that's exceptionally nice of you," he set the bottle on the desk next to the small package he had earlier received. "I wasn't expecting that,"

Emma nodded, "Oh and modest too," he might have seen a genuine smile crack her porcelain complexion, "Well, the rugrat is waiting for me in the car. I must be on my way. Merry Christmas, Scott."

"Merry Christmas to you too," he wasn't sure what else to say so he just mumbled some cordial words that felt right, "See you around."

"I hope so," she pursed her lips together and offered a final smile before disappearing. Her strong perfume lingered in his office.

* * *

"Wow, you look hot…" Scarlet snorted, "for a grandma."

Jean's mouth flew open, "No!"

The two women were at a nearby mall in the city. The insides bustled with frantic holiday shoppers that zoomed past holiday store fronts and various Santa displays. Jean had just wrapped up her finals and finally found some spare time for the first time in her new city. Scarlet insisted her redheaded friend give her wardrobe an update, especially with Scott coming out. Jean thought she dressed fine and Scott really shouldn't influence her style or whatever. But after giving it some more thought, maybe it wouldn't hurt.

Jean was convinced to spend one afternoon at the mall, despite it being one of her least favorite places. Shopping just wasn't her thing. It was overwhelming with the sales racks screaming at you, advertising their discounts and specials. She wasn't particularly fashionable herself and she wasn't sure how much advice she wanted to take from Scarlet, the queen of dark colors and lipstick.

However, she quickly learned an hour into their excursion that what Scarlet really meant by updating her wardrobe. Her friend turned down every modest piece of clothing she tried on.

"Wow, nothing says "take me to the bedroom' faster than a sexy _turtleneck,_ Jean!"

Jean placed her hands on her hips and looked at herself in the mirror, "Oh, it's not _that_ bad," she searched for something sexy about the thick fabric hanging around her torso, "Besides, I am not looking to seduce anyone!"

"It's bad," Scarlett laughed, "Here, try these on."

Apparently, Scarlett had taken the liberty to find some outfits she approved of while Jean was trying on her last round of clothing. The boutique they were in was trendy but offered a variety of styles. After seeing Jean gravitate to the old lady clothing, Scarlett could quickly see how much help her friend needed.

Jean was shoved back into the dressing room with a new tangle of hangers and straps. A few moments later she emerged, "It doesn't fit," she referred to the oversized gray knit sweater with the neck area danglingly awkwardly around her chest.

Scarlett popped up off the small loveseat in the dressing room, "You have it on wrong," she laughed and adjusted the neckline, "It's supposed to hang off your shoulder."

Jean glanced back in the mirror after her friend fixed her up, _oh._

She actually didn't look half bad. The sweater pooled around her in a cozy way, but the bare shoulder peeking through was a little more than what she was used to.

"Look at that sexy shoulder," Scarlet flipped Jean's long waves to the side, exposing the freckled skin.

Jean laughed and tried to slip back into the dressing room, "Okay, it's not _that_ bad. I will consider it."

"More, more!" Scarlet demanded from outside the door.

"Okay, one second," Jean muffled through the fabric as she slipped off the sweater and put on a dress Scarlett plopped on the top of the clothes pile.

"Well?" Jean opened the dressing room door.

Scarlett's eyes widened, "Girl, yes! This is _the_ dress for the holiday party."

The dress was perfectly fitted to Jean's figure. It was a festive but sophisticated plaid holiday dress. The top clung to her curves with a ¾ length sleeve and the bottom flared out and cut off right about her knee.

"It feels so," Jean bit her bottom lip nervously, "It's just not what I am used to,"

"No, it looks great. Shut up," Scarlett grinned.

* * *

"Gentle," Remy advised, "A lil' seasonin' goes a long way."

Scott steadied his hand as he pinched the salt between his fingers. He was mid private cooking lesson with Remy. The two men were in the kitchen wearing aprons after work one evening. Scott had asked Remy to help teach him how to make a nice meal. He explained he wanted to make a special someone a special holiday dinner. Remy the romantic lit up on the spot and insisted he teach him how to make fresh seared Salmon. He insisted that he would get it nice and fresh from the fish markets in Seattle.

"Oui, dats betta'," Remy praised him. "Now ya jus' want to kiss da' pan for a moment."

Remy flash seared the prepared Salmon in the pan and the skin sizzled in protest. Little beads of moisture danced on the stainless steel pan as the garlic and butter crisped up the outer layer of the fish. After a couple of minutes, he took them off and rest them on a potato puree. Then lightly topped it with fresh thyme. He made it look easy and effortless. Truthfully, it looked like a meal that would be on a fancy menu full of ornate cursive fonts and prices in the triple digits.

"If you do dis right, mon ami," Remy's dark ember eyes lit up, "You will hav' nothin' ta worry 'bout."

Scott had to admit, the Cajun did not look like your average chef but he sure knew how to cook. It smelled divine and Scott realized he wasn't even sure if he liked Salmon. He couldn't recall a time in his past that he had tried it. He could recall frozen half cooked soggy fish sticks that one of the families he stayed with in foster care used to make. That was the extent of his elegant fish experience.

Remy caught him eyeing the delicacy, "Dig in."

The two men grabbed forks and split the filet as if they were sharing an ice cream sundae. The fish flaked apart in Scott's mouth and he hoped he would be able to come half as close as Remy's meal when he tried it on his own.

His trip was coming up in about a week. He tried not to let himself be distracted too much by staying busy with tinkering around the cabin. He brought a little space heater and construction lamp into the cabin so he could work on the bathroom tile during the cold nights. However, it was a slow time for business around the camp. Every second of the day felt like a decade. The closer his trip approached the longer the days stretched out. He concluded that the calendars and clocks were little devils. _Cruel bastards._

* * *

"It's here!" Kitty ran down the hall and burst into Scott's office out of breath.

Scott was alarmed at the sudden burst and started to get up from his seat. Kitty waved her arms with laughter, assuring him it was nothing major.

"It's here!" She said again, waving an envelope in her hand. She tossed it on Scott's desk.

He carefully picked up the mail and inspected the front. It was addressed from the local community college. He had made an appointment last week to sneak in after work and take his GED test. They assured him they would grade it and send his results within a week.

There was a lump in his throat as his fingers felt slightly wobbly opening up the letter. Was it congratulating him or confirming he was a big failure? He swallowed and opened it up, skimming the words on the page. He read it over again in depth.

"Well?" Kitty was stiff as a board with anticipation. He realized she had helped him so of course she wasn't probably dying to know.

"Um," Scott skimmed the paper again.

"Oh my God," Kitty rolled her eyes and snatched the paper out of his hands from across the desk. She took all of three seconds before squealing, "You did it!"

The news took a moment to absorb into him. He had read the words that said he passed the test and an official transcript of his achievement was attached. But he couldn't bring himself to believe it. To most, it would seem like a minimal achievement, but to him it was everything. It was his first official government document that was positive. He was used to shitty court documents and records of his custody and status with the state. Instead, this was a documented colossal achievement.

"Yeah, I guess I did," His eyes were almost glossy and he his smile finally found his face, "Thank you for all your help."

Kitty gave an enthusiastic cheer, "Wow, this is the _best_ Christmas gift ever!" He could tell she was just as excited as he was.

"Alright, go sneak some eggnog from the kitchen," Scott said, "Charles went into town for the afternoon, so we can celebrate a little," he grinned.

This almost launched her to the moon from her elevated energy, she shook her head up and down like a ping pong. He watched her disappear down the hall. The Christmas music in the front got noticeably louder right before he heard the front door bells chime, as she ran off in search of some holiday goodies.

Scott glanced at his calendar hanging on the wall. The red ink scribbled on the 23rd added to the excitement.

 _Three more days._


	10. Bon Ami

**Updates:**

First and foremost, thank you all for your wonderful feedback and thoughtful reviews/messages. I never left this project, however, I did not intend to take such a long hiatus. Truthfully, I lost some of the notes for this story and it _bummed. me. out._ Recently, while moving, I found all my notes! Over the last couple of months, I've been working on refreshing the storylines and some chapter drafts.

I apologize for the shorter chapter. I wanted to get a chapter out into the world. The next one is a big one and I am hoping to have it by the end of the month. This summer I will have lots of time for new chapters.

I recently put together an Instagram for anyone interested in following and receiving more updates:

Cheers! - Bez

* * *

The callous wintry winds blew against the rickety boathouse as it creaked in protest. Scott rummaged through the various tools scattered around inside. He had just finished restoring the old black wall vent stove nestled in the corner of the main living area of his cabin. The ancient stove just needed a good cleaning and it was ready to be brought back to life. This would allow him to heat the cabin during the colder months so he could continue the restorations inside during the slower season.

Scott was determined to cut down some of the dead trees around the cabin. They needed to come down out of the safety of the structure and he needed a heat source to feed the stove. It was easier to accomplish this while some warm daylight lingered and before the snow began to fall across the camp.

A good ax was needed to execute his plan and he didn't feel like asking Logan to borrow his, like a neighbor coming by for a cup of sugar. He doubted Logan would be the hospitable type. The last thing he needed was to owe the tawdry man a favor of any sort, they seemed to have struck a mutual distance that worked well for them both. The boathouse was a good place to start looking for any spare tools and it was a lot closer to his cabin than the maintenance barn across the camp.

His eyes landed on the prize he sought and he picked up a sturdy spare ax that was tucked behind some various wood planks stacked up against the wall. He brushed off cobwebs that clung to the wooden handle. It had a good weight to it and didn't look dull enough to cause him any significant problems.

He turned to lock up and a couple of loose leather straps hanging from a hook on the wall caught his eye. He picked up the smooth strips and ran his hand over the ambered hide. He brought it to his nose, the thick smell of leather confirmed these were genuine. They had a familiar look about them, surely he had seen these before. His eyes scanned the small room.

A memory of his encounter with Logan's threats flickered across his mind. It brought a smirk to his typical concealed demeanor. There was something in his chest that swelled, a good feeling, a feeling of growth. He had come far from the timid lost boy who arrived at the camp by chance. He was beginning to feel that his encounter with the camp wasn't by chance, but a fate that life had waiting for him all along.

 _Ah._ The oars to the rowboat rested neatly near the door. The oars had leather strips around them for grip. His attention shifted back to the leather strips in his hand and he had decided that they were just scraps left over from when they repaired the oars. He shoved them deep into his pockets and proceeded to lock up.

Dried leaves whirled and tumbled across Scott's boot as he walked through the woods and back to his cabin. He was thankful for the thick fleece pullover that kept him warm against the brisk air.

As he approached the cabin, a familiar figure stood in front of the wooden a-frame.

"Remy," Scott gave a friendly acknowledgment, "What brings you out to the woods?"

The Cajun turned to Scott, "Mon Ami! Don't ya t'ink I am wonderin' da' same about you?"

Scott grinned and adjusted the brim of his hat, the two men staring at the cabin in front of them, "This is my project. I've mentioned it."

"Non!" The Cajun had a wild look in his eye, more than his usual perplexing stare, "W'en someone says project, I t'ink building a bookshelf, not a whole house."

"To be fair," Scott walked up the steps of the wooden deck and motioned for Remy to follow, "I didn't build it. I'm just fixing it up."

The men entered inside, their footsteps and voices echoing through the empty room. "So this is where ya been sneakin' off ta every night?"

"Pretty much," Scott set the wooden ax down next to the black heating stove in the corner of the room. He wiped his hands off on the front of his pants and picked up two beer cans sitting in a half-empty 12 pack box by the door. The temperature in the cabin was cool enough without heating yet to keep the contents in the can somewhat refreshing still.

He tossed one to Remy and they cracked their open in unison. Remy walked around the room, looking at the freshly installed pine cabinets on the back wall of the room.

"Dis is gud work," Remy ran his hands along the surface of one of the cabinet doors, then proceeded to open and close one, "You done work like dis before, no?"

"A little bit, I got some work fixing up cabins down south not too long ago. I've just been trying to apply what I know and read up on the rest," Scott sipped on his beer, taking a moment to look around the room as well. He had a tendency to focus on the task at hand, he rarely remembered to take a step back and admire his hard work.

Remy flicked an ancient rusted light switch on the wall with no response, "How'd ya' plan ta' get dese lights workin'?"

Scott shrugged, "I don't have a great plan yet," he laughed at himself.

It felt good to talk about the cabin with someone else. Emailing about it with Jean was always something he looked forward to, but they felt like fairytales of another person's life. Having Remy in the space made it all feel more real and tangible.

"I might start with the library, it turns out there's some useful stuff between the pages of those old books," Scott motioned to the stack of books sitting in the corner. Each title had a topic of some sort of home repair. He had checked out anything he could find that might assist him with the cabin. His routine weekly hardware store run usually consisted of a stop at the library first, picking ideas off the shelf the best he could.

The Cajun gave a cautionary whistle, " _Merde!_ Dat is a gamble. An' a gud way ta' start a fire,"

Scott's amused expression hinted that the Cajun was probably right, "Got anything better?"

Remy nodded and took a drink from the can, "Here's my idea, Remy will do it. I am not gud at much, but I am good wit mah' hands."

Scott raised a brow and started to protest the generous offer but Remy was not going to have any of it. Besides, he was right, it was probably too big a task to take on without much prior knowledge.

"Mon Ami, we haven't talk'd much 'bout Remy, like we don't talk much 'bout Scott."

Scott knew exactly what he meant. Both men managed to get along and have an unspoken agreement that their past was not important. It seemed to be a theme around here. Charles had a knack for collecting misfits and making them feel like they mattered for once. Scott had a sense that Remy also felt like he belonged after a long period of searching.

"Listen to dis, before I found da' kitchen, I lived a tough life on da' streets. Dey raised me. T'ankful dat cooking saved me, but befo' dat, I was part of a street gang. We didn't harm nobody but we took dere t'ings. I am not saying it'was right...sumtimes t'inkin' 'bout it keeps me up at night," Remy pause to take a sip from the cool can.

Scott wasn't sure if the shadows from the setting sun were playing games or if Remy's eyes had become darker as he looked through Scott and into his past. He remained unphased though, they all had their pasts. He has had his own experience being in the corner of life and having to do what needs to be done to get by another day.

"So da gang, we took care of each 'udder," he continued. "W'en sumone had sumd'ing, we all had sumd'ing. When nobody had nuddin', we all had nuddin', and dats the way t'ings were."

Scott was always focused on putting distance between him and his past, as if making it feel far enough away would wipe it from history. However, life didn't work that way. He admired how Remy not only spoke so openly about his experiences, but somehow could separate the good from bad, and even pull out valuable life lessons. _The damn Cajun fortune cookie strikes again._

"Wat I am gettin' at is dis, Remy has worked 'lot of odd jobs he'uh and dere," He continued, "During da' night, we would do da' devils' work. But da'daytime is not de same. We still had ta' try and get gud honest money, da' streets didn't always provide. Dere were a lot of us livin' in a warehouse down in Nawlins'. Mon ami, Pierre, was a damn gud card playa' but an even betta' electric guy. He got Remy set up wit a job helping him run wires in a big new condo type buildin' in da city. I don't have no certificates or anyt'ng, but Remy can handle dis petit project."

Scott decided not to acknowledge Remy exposing his past, hell, he probably shared with him knowing that there wasn't going to be a follow up press conference with a flurry of questions.

"But, I don't have much to pay you right now-"

"So?" Remy shrugged this time, "Brotha', 'dis not 'bout payment. Remy has ah roof, full belly, cold beer, and gud company. W'at more cud' mo'ney bring?"

Scott simmered on the idea, he really couldn't expect Remy to volunteer his own time towards Scott's own responsibilities, but he could tell it might crush the Cajun if he continued to resist. Then he remembered walking into Charles' office, advocating for more help, and Charles graciously accepting the proposed offer. Perhaps there was a lesson here for himself this time.

Scott finished the cold beer and the empty aluminum echoed in the room as he set it on the counter. He lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair in thought, "That is very generous of you. I can't help but feel I wouldn't be where I am without the constant handouts."

Remy shook his head, " _Lagniappe."_

"Layn-what?" Scott was unsure of what his pidgin speaking friend had just said.

Remy grinned, " _Lagniappe,_ dis word we use back home to mean _more than expected_. We know we ain't got much in the world, but we got ne'vah endin' geno'rosity," Remy narrowed his gaze, "It ain't 'bout handouts, Scott. Life brought you sum' gud' folk, Lady Luck is smilin' on you, Ami. Play the cards when you have them."

His words seeped into his bones like the cool evening air setting in, "Alright. I suppose I could use a hand," he was reluctant but in agreement.

" _Laissez les bons temps rouler!"_ Remy jubilantly exclaimed.

Scott reached for his notepad of scribbles on the counter and flipped to a new page. He tapped the pen on the notebook before setting it down and sliding it across the counter to Remy, "Here, use this page to make a list of everything you need. I can gather up what I've got laying around here and get the rest from around camp or the hardware store in the morning."

Remy nodded and immediately turned and started knocking on the walls and examining where the existing switches and lights were.

Scott sunk his hands into his pockets to warm them up. His fingertips brushed the soft leather in his pocket, "Remy," Scott cleared his throat as the other man walked the length of the room and ran his hands along the wall, "So, you know all about jewelry and stuff?"

Remy remained silent for a moment, Scott unsure if he was in thought or concentrating. It was uncomfortable to hedge on the idea that Remy used to be a pickpocket.

"Vous c'uld say I liked shiny t'ings, I will tell you dat much," Remy turned and winked. "But, dat was ano'der life. Long ago."

"Right," Scott said slightly embarrassed, "I didn't mean it like that," his voice trailed off, ready to abandon the conversation. He squeezed the leather in his pocket, "But, if you're up for another project, I might have a small one I want to commission you for you. Whatever the cost, I'll pay it. You seem like the right man for the job."

* * *

Scott rose before the sun the next morning. The previous night he was up late with Remy, who was insistent to start working right away. Before the two men retired for the night, Remy had already marked up some of the walls, advising Scott to go down to the studs and replace most of the drywall. The cabin wasn't big, with only two main areas, upstairs and downstairs, so two sets of hands with experience would be able to get the job done rather quickly.

He was the first person in the hardware store, carefully going over Remy's listed supplies and directions. Once his cart was brimming to the top with tubs of compound and adhesives, finished checking out then loaded up the slates of sheetrock in the bed of the truck. He drove home carefully, trying not to disturb the materials in the back on the bumpy road back to the cabin.

By the time he returned, Remy had busted out the old walls and started marking up the areas he thought would be best to run the wires. All Scott had to do was come in and approve where he wanted his outlets. Scott could tell Remy enjoyed this type of work. It reminded him of watching the Cajun in the kitchen, who always seemed content creating with his hands, whether it was food or fixer uppers.

The two men spent the rest of the day hard at work. Remy went about his electrical work and Scott began drywalling. Classic rock tunes echoed through the empty rooms between the smears of compound, sanding down joints, and the constant whine of the drills. Together, they had made more progress in six hours than Scott had projected for the next month. He had to admit, having a second set of skilled hands brought fresh stamina to his project.

* * *

Jean kicked open the door to her apartment with her foot as she managed to lug in her work bags, groceries, and a couple of small packages she had to pick up from the quaint brick-lined lobby. Her cell phone was propped between her shoulder and ear as she sought to not drop the device or lose it in her red wavy mane.

"Grandma Jo has only been here for like three hours and I already don't know how I am going to survive the next week sharing a room with her," Hank's sensationalized familiar tone was on the other line.

Jean snickered as she dropped her keys in the bowl on the small table by her door and kicked off her shoes, "Sharing a room?"

"Ugh, _Yes_! Can you believe it? I am pretty sure my sister is _faking_ this sickness thing she's got going on just so I have to share my room with the old crazy woman _instead_ of her," he huffed, "If I have to listen to one more story about Cocoa, Bubbles, or Beezlebub…"

"Who?" Jean dumped the mail on her kitchen counter and looked at the small brown box with no sender information on it.

"Oh, her cats, _so many cats!"_ Hank buzzed on about the current complications of his holiday break.

Jean grinned, thinking back to crisp Michigan leaves she got in the mail earlier that fall. She quickly sliced the seal on the top and reached into the tiny package. Her fingers wrapped around a felt smooth box. This wasn't what she had expected.

She pulled out a velvet feeling box and swallowed hard. She wasn't prepared for such an elaborate gift. She didn't know what was inside, but she could tell from the countless shopping trips as a child with her mother, there was something shiny and expensive inside.

She opened the lid and the bits of light hit the stones and sparkled back at her. She slammed the top shut.

"Jean? Hello?"

"Uh, hey," her surroundings flooded back to her as she felt lost for a moment, "I'm here, sorry, I was in the elevator and lost service for a second," she fibbed.

She picked up the box and searched inside for more information. No sender, no note, _nothing._ It was unusual but the only person who had mailed her anything personal since her arrival to Seattle was Scott. Yes, it was a flattering gift, but it wasn't like him. It wasn't his style. Let alone, wondering where he could have even begun to get the money for such an intricate gift.

"Elevator? So you stayed in Seattle?" Hank questioned the redhead.

She habitually shrugged even though he couldn't see it, "Yeah, the cross country travel is just a lot, you know. Plus I have my coffee shop shifts I should stick around for."

Hank snorted, "Yeah, the coffee shop. Sure, Jean." They both knew she was avoiding going back. "So, what does Miss Grey have planned for her west coast Christmas?"

Jean hesitated to answer. She wasn't sure if telling the truth would lead to a flurry of annoying questions she wasn't sure how to answer.

"Scott is visiting," she blurted it out before she could go back and forth anymore in her mind.

There was an audible noise or shriek of some kind from the other end, as predicted.

"Okay, settle down," she couldn't help but grin to herself hearing it out loud even with all the dramatics.

" _Oh honey,_ now why did you let me go on about my insufferable gram gram for so long when we have _much_ more pressing things to discuss?" Hank was offended and excited all at the same time. "What is all of this about?"

Jean bit at her lower lip, "Uh," she wasn't even sure where to start, "He came a couple weeks ago…"

"Jean Elaine Grey."

"I meant to tell you! I just have been really busy and finals were kinda insane," she stumbled over her words.

"Explain yourself, sister," Hank cleared his throat, "I sense you didn't tell me because of your school nonsense, just like I know you didn't lose me on the elevator just a minute ago."

 _Busted._ Hank knew Jean so well, she forgot that she could keep little hidden from him and surprised she had managed to hide her current life updates this long.

She took a deep breath, there was no use fighting it, "We ended the summer really close. Scott surprised me," she felt the nerves in her lips slightly tingle just letting his name pass against them, "He's really a great friend."

" _Aaaaand?"_

"So, since I knew he was kinda a loner, and I was too, I invited him to Thanksgiving," she knew this wouldn't satisfy the snoop on the other line, but it was enough to keep him at bay for now, "As any good friend would."

" _Oh_ ," Hank gave a coy chuckle, "and how is this...what did you call it, _friendship_ going?"

Jean rolled her eyes so hard she was sure Hank could feel it, "It's going fine."

"Well I'd say that, honey! Clearly, he's coming out for Christmas. Was this your doing as well?" Hank had his gossip voice in full swing.

"Yes, I guess," Jean laughed, "It's not a big deal."

"Oh Miss Grey, I think you like this boy…"

Jean sat in the silence for a moment. Her initial instinct was to deny it, but her heart told her he was speaking the truth.

Hank didn't wait for her to reply, "There's nothing wrong with being attracted to someone," his tone was softer with her, "Does he know?"

"Know what?"

Hank huffed, "That you care about him."

"Ugh, Hank, I don't know," she rubbed the felt box with her thumb, "I would assume? We had a couple of moments…"

"Oh?"

"Nothing major," Jean brushed off any possibility of a juicier conversation, "But like, I feel really calm around him. I think he feels the same around me. We are different, so different, but also the same. I can't explain it."

For once, Hank was silent. Jean had to check her phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"It's all complicated," she continued, "He's working at camp, I am out here at school. What happens when the holidays pass? Will it all still be the same?"

Hank hushed her small spiral of panic, "Girl, you've got to tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"That you love him."

Jean nearly dropped the velour necklace box in her hands, "No…"

"No, you don't love him, or _no_ you won't?" She could imagine Hank with a hand propped sassily on his hip right now.

She wasn't sure how to answer, "I don't know."

"Good gracious, emotions don't need to be this difficult," Hank lightened the tone, "Look, Jean, there's a lot of shitty parts of life, like _a lot_. We both know that. But girl, when something good comes along, don't start playing the 'what if' game. The fact you even fear it ending, says a lot more about how much you want to keep him in your life."

Jean sat in the thick of the silence, he was right.

"If you're afraid of him rejecting you, well," Hank snorted, "That's _never_ going to happen. I saw those puppy dog eyes keep tabs on you all summer. Besides, he _also_ agreed to all of this, so you're not alone in your feelings. He's not an idiot."

"No, he's not," she was quick to defend him, "He cautious, takes his time to think things through, I'm just worried he's a little more practical."

"More practical than... _you_?! Have you met yourself?"

Jean laughed. Maybe Hank was more on the money than she realized. Maybe that's why Scott sent her something sparkly, thinking the early Christmas present would be a sign of his feelings. Her heart buzzed. He didn't need to do anything to buy her love. He had won her over just by being who he was. Just him being near was enough.

"I'll think about it," She finally breathed, "I'll see how the next couple of days go, and I'll see if it's the right time."

Hank seemed somewhat quenched in his persistence, "Just give into what feels right. Don't do so much thinking. Just lead with your heart."

 _If only it were that easy._


End file.
